The Chronicles of Jennifer Jareau
by JemilyPLLGleek78-10
Summary: Prequel to "The Treasures of My Heart", a "What If" version of BFFv2. This follows JJ from birth until age 2. Come along as JJ gets to discovery the world as a baby and toddler with someone extra special. Birthdays, vacations, & holidays! TWs for detailed scenes of hospitalizations, surgeries, illnesses, etc. All ratings & trigger warnings apply. #1 in the BFFv2 – What If Universe.
1. Author's Note

Hey, everyone! I've decided to do something cool. This may be tiring but…

I'm doing YET ANOTHER version of BFF, EXCEPT this time, it is a VERY SPECIAL type. However, for this story right here, is a PREQUEL to that story. More specifically, Jennifer's prequel. As it said in the summary, this is going to detail her life from birth (day she is born is written) until she turns 3 years old.

At that time, I will end this story, and go on to the ACTUAL third version of BFF. It will be titled "_Treasures of the Heart"_.

Extended summary:

This is the prequel for "Treasures of the Heart" and will follow Jennifer from her birth until age 3 years, ending with either her third birthday party or a chapter of a few days after. This WILL include tons of fluff and family scenes, both with Jennifer's and Emily's families. Things like... family vacations, birthdays, and holidays. I can also do prompts if you would like to see something in particular.

The story will also include lots of family members! It will have Emily, her cousins, and several other family members, as the same with Jennifer. The majority of which will be OCs belonging to me. If you would like a star character (someone who you own the rights to), please let me know, and I MIGHT BE able to work something out.

It may be a little hard because I have so many of the OCs planned out, but I will try my best.

**IMPORTANT:**

**Trigger Warnings for detailed scenes of lengthy and many, many hospitalizations, surgeries, illnesses, NICU stays, and premature birth. **Oth**er TWs will be included in the chapter's Author's Note, so please pay attention to them at the beginning of each chapter.**

I've been working on it for a VERY long time. I have collaborating with _Kmbryan2015_, and want to give a shoutout and a thank you to her. She has been a tremendous help for about 98% of this story. I really appreciate the help! :)

I hope you enjoy this. It will get to Jennifer and Emily, and their families and siblings on holidays, birthdays, vacations, etc. once I get past the first couple of dozen chapters and on to the happier times.

**An overview of what to expect:**

**Jennifer Jareau's birth  
Various hospital chapters  
Various milestones  
Many, many moments throughout Jenny's life from the time she is born until the age of 3 years (July 1978 to July 1981)**

Please follow and/or favorite this story, if you are interested. And, if you want, you can review prompts you would like to see now or in the future. I will be posting upwards of 3x a month, one of which will be on the eighth of each month because January 8 is when I officially published this story.

* * *

Families are as follows…

**_Grandparents:_**

**Karen + Kenneth Jareau  
****Regina + Fredrick Jones (deceased)**

**_Parents:_**

**Sandy + Michael:**

**** Kids to be added to reference page**

**** Additional families to be added to reference page**

Thank you! :)

**_JemilyPLLGlee78–10_**


	2. Prologue pt 1 (The Split-Second Mistake)

**_Prologue – A Split Second Mistake_**

** Edited: 1/22/2020. Changed Caleb's age in flashback from 11 years old to 10 years old. Changed his age in present time (July 1978) from 12 years old to 11 years old.**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for child kidnap scene.**

**Trigger Warning: Kidnapping. Please read with caution. I will have it marked.**

**Notes: ****Here is the prologue to JJ's prequel! We have her big brother, Caleb, and his point of view in it.**

**Here we go! :)**

* * *

_**July 3rd, 1978**_

* * *

**_*Jareau Residence (Sandy & Michael) – Caleb's point of view*_**

My name is Caleb Jeremiah Jareau. I am 11 years old.

Right now, I am in my room. I share it with brothers, Elijah and Gabriel, who are 11 and 6 years old.

My twin sister, Emma, also 11, shares a room with Roslyn who is 6 years old, too, because she is Gabriel's twin sister. They also shared a room with Lexie, but Lexie went missing last year.

Tomorrow will be the one-year anniversary, actually.

I know that my mom blames me for what happened.

You see, one year ago tomorrow, I took my little siblings to the park. It was me, Gabriel, and Lexie. They were 5 and 3 years old, respectively.

My other siblings, Elijah, Emma, and Roslyn were at soccer and gymnastics practice, so I decided to take the younger kids, who were not in any sports, to the park.

Everything was going fine. I was pushing Gabe on the swings and Lexie was playing tag with our cousin, who had come to the park, also. His name was Kevin. He was three years old, also, but almost four. I say 'was' because he went missing, as well.

He was there with his little brother, Will. Will was 2 ½ years old. Thankfully, he did _not_ go missing.

* * *

**_Flashback:_**

**_Date: Monday, July 4_****_th_****_, 1977 (12:45 p.m.)  
Place: East Allegheny, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania  
Point of view: Caleb_**

**_I run around with my brother, Gabe. We are playing tag._**

**_"Tag, you it!" Gabe says as he touches me._**

**_"I'm gonna get you!" I yell back, making him scream and giggle. "I'm the 'It' Monster and I am going to get Gabey!"_**

**_I stomp around and make Gabriel squeal and run off. Our sister, Lexie, who is 3 years old, comes running over._**

**_"Pease, I pay, too, Bubba!"_**

**_"Okay, Lexie. You can play, too." This makes her happy. "You better run!" We all run up the stairs to where our bedrooms are._**

**_Gabriel runs into a bedroom that is on the left. It's the girls' bedroom. My twin sister, Emma, shares with our sisters, Roslyn and Lexie._**

**_Gabriel runs in and jumps on the bed. And I run in after him and jump on top of him._**

**_"I got you, Gabey!" I shout. "Now the 'It' Monster will turn into the "Tickle Monster"!"_**

**_"Noooo! Don't!" Gabe laughs and we start wrestling. Lexie climbs on the bed, too._**

**_"Me, too! Me, too!" She jumps on us. _****_We are having so much. Then, we hear,_**

**_"Caleb! Gabriel! Lexie! What are you DOING?!" _****_We all freeze. Oh, no. It's Emma._**

**_She stomps over and pushes all of us. We get up._**

**_"You wrecked it!" She tells us. Wrecked what? I turn around. Oh. Her Gymnastics clothes, water bottle, and a book are all over the place on the bed._**

**_"I'm telling mom!" She runs out of the room. _****_Great. Now she is going to be a tattletale. And I am going to get in trouble, just like always._**

**_"Quick!" I say. "Make the bed and fix the stuff. Maybe mom won't be so mad after." Gabriel nods because he understands. He has been on the other end when mom wants to blame us for something._**

**_We put everything on the floor and then make the bed. Gabriel puts the pillows nice and neat and I put Emma's Gymnastics clothes back on it, and Lexie does the water bottle and book._**

**_"All done!" Lexie grins. This is her favorite thing to say. _****_I am about to tell her good job, when we hear mom yelling,_**

**_"Gabriel Anthony, Caleb Jeremiah, Alexandria Lynn, get your asses down here right now!" _****_We all look at each other with wide eyes. I pick Lexie up and we go to the kitchen downstairs._**

**_"Five minutes!" Mom says as soon as we enter. Five minutes for what? "All I asked is five minutes without you wrecking your sister's things." Oh, those five minutes. I really thought I was doing ok with entertaining Gabriel._**

**_"Elijah does not do this, and he is younger than you, Caleb," I just stay quiet even though I wish mom would let me say I was sorry, let me tell her it was an accident, that I did not mean to. _****_But she won't believe me. Because I am the oldest. Gabriel is five and Lexie is three, they're just little babies. I am the oldest, so I should know better._**

**_"Emma does an excellent job with entertaining your siblings," Mom continues. "She draws with them or takes them outside. She doesn't run around the house as if she were raised in a barn! Why can't you be more like her? Huh?"_**

**_Not even Emma, who is the same age as me, can do wrong. And she is constantly rubbing it in my face. _****_I can't be like Emma, though, because I am a boy, and she is a girl._**

**_I like green and blue and brown, she likes pink, red, and green. I have short hair and boy parts, and she has long hair and girl parts. I use the bathroom standing up, she does it sitting down. She can have a baby when she is older, and I cannot._**

**_So why does mom always want me to be like Emma, if that is impossible to do?_**

**_"I am so disappointed in you, Caleb." _****Of course, you are,****_ I think. _****When are you not disappointed in me?**

**_"You are supposed to be a role model for your little siblings. You are supposed to show them how to behave. Otherwise, Gabriel, Lexie, and Roslyn will think _****this****_ is the way you all are supposed to behave."_**

**_"Mommy, I jumped on the bed, too," Oh, Gabe, sweet, sweet Gabriel, trying to stick up for me. "It wasn't just Bubba Caleb."_**

**_"Yeah, Mamma," Lexie jumps in. "I did it, too." Then she turns to me and tugs on my shirt. I pick her up and she kisses my cheek. "Don't be sad, Bubba Caleb. It is otay."_**

**_"You see what you have started?" _****Now what?****_ I think… _****How is them sticking up for me, my fault?**

**_"Now you have them trying to take blame for your wrongdoings." Of course, Gabe and Lexie, the babies, they who can do no wrong._**

**_I look at my mom and make sure she can see the hurt I feel on the inside. I make sure to show how much it pains me when she says she is disappointed in me, which is all the time, and tells me all the things I have done wrong._**

**_My eyesight is so blurry because of the tears. My heart hurts. I don't feel playful anymore. I just feel so much _****hurt. ****_And hatred towards my mom. Why can't she tell me she is proud of me, like she does with my sisters and brothers?_**

**_I try so hard in school, but I can only make Cs and sometimes Bs, because it is so hard for me to focus. _****_I get distracted by other kids talking, or the teacher talking, or sounds in hallway, and a million other things, and then I can't focus on what the teacher is explaining, which means I won't know how to do my homework, which ends in me getting a low-B or high-C as a grade._**

**_I also have trouble remembering everything I need to bring to class, or home, or how to do my chores, or which chores I was asked to do, and how to start a project and then finish in time, or what time a project or assignment is due._**

**_I try to tell my mom this, but she won't listen. She asks me why I can't be more like my sister, or Elijah, because they get A's and hardly any B's. You see, Elijah and Emma, they have trouble in school, also._**

**_Elijah has trouble with writing. He says it hurts his hand and he can never get it right. When he has to write essays, he takes three or more hours to get it done because he has to keep stopping once every two to three words. _****_Mom is harsh with him, too. Way harsh, like yells at him to just _****try harder, how hard is it to write a fucking sentence, Elijah?**

**_And it is the same with Emma. She had a harder time learning to read and is having trouble with learning math._**

**_Mom wants everyone to be perfect. She wants us to all get straight As, never have to have help on homework, never have something we do not understand. _****_And you see, Daddy is the one that gets Elijah and Emma help in their classes. With Emma, he helped her learn to sound out words, to break words up into smaller ones._**

**_He also makes sure the teachers know to give her enough time to do her work. No times math tests, extra days to do her worksheets. He even got her a tutor, for reading and math. _****_For Elijah, Dad tells the teachers to give him a copy of their notes, just in case, because most of the time, Elijah cannot read his own handwriting._**

**_And when he misses a word on his spelling tests, Dad gets really mad, because he can see it is obvious the word is spelled correctly, and only marked wrong because the teacher cannot read Eli's handwriting._**

**_It took a lot work on Daddy's part, to make sure Emma and Elijah get the help they need, that Em gets to see her tutor, and that Elijah is getting his work done._**

**_Mom does not help at all. She does not meet with the teachers, she is not patient with Em or Eli, she does not help them with spelling a word or with a math problem. She just tells them to _****do it yourself, you're not stupid, and you certainly do not need the help your fucking father thinks you do.**

**_And Mom, well, she tells me to try harder. To focus harder. To work harder. That I can't have TV time if I forget my books or homework one more time; that I have to stay in and write sentences when I forget my work._**

**_She says if I miss any spelling words because I chose not to study, not because I _****forget to do it****_, but because I _****chose not to****_, then I have to write each word I miss 10 times each._**

**_I don't tell Dad any of this, though. Because he has his hands full with work, Em and Eli, my other siblings._**

**_"Caleb Jeremiah!" Mom suddenly screams at me. I jump and am pulled back to the present. "Have you been listening to word I have been saying, or were you off in that imaginary world of yours again?" She asks this in a mean tone, to show me she is not being playful when she says, "imaginary world." She likes to mock me in a mean way about that._**

**_I sigh. "Yes, ma'am. You were saying you are disappointed in me – again. I should know better – again. I should be a better example, like my sister and Elijah – again. I know, Mom, okay. I know."_**

**_My voice breaks and tears start rolling down my face._**

**_"I'm sorry. I am sorry I am such a disappointment. I am sorry that I am not smart like everyone else. I am sorry that you hate ME SO MUCH! I am just SORRY, OKAY?"_**

**_My mom is stunned into silence by my yelling. But before I can move away, she raises her hand, and…_**

**_And she slaps me in the face. _****_I am used to it, so it does not shock me._**

**_However, Lexie, who I am still holding, and Gabe, who is standing beside me, both yell out in surprise. My face almost hits Lexie's from where it moved to the side with the force of Mom's slap, so she starts crying._**

**_Maybe it would be better if I just disappeared, I think. My mom's life would be so better without me. I look around the kitchen. My dad is not here because he is at work. Usually, he gets in here when she is yelling and stops her. Tells her to take a break before she does something she'll regret._**

**_"You watch your tone with my, Young Man," My mom says in a scary voice. Gabe starts crying now. "Look at what you have done to your brother and sister."_****_Of_****-fucking-****_course she would blame _****me****_ for their crying._**

**_I just step away. I try to put Lexie down, but she won't let me. So instead, I say, _****_"Gabe, come on." And I lead him outside. I sit down and Lexie looks at me._**

**_"I sarwe Mamma hit you, Bubba Caleb," She gently kisses my red cheek and it makes me cry harder. I never wanted my younger siblings to know what mom does to me. I would always try to pay attention and not do anything that would make her hit me in front of them._**

**_They are only 5 and 3 years old. Babies. They should not have seen that. I know sometimes I wish they would get in trouble for the wrong things they do, but at the end of the day, I am their big brother, and I will _****always ****_try to protect them from the scary stuff, like Mom slapping my face._**

**_"I'm sorry you two had to see that," I tell them. Lexie is sitting with her chest facing mine, one leg on each side of me, and she leans her head against my shoulder. Gabe scoots closer and leans against me as well. I put my arm around him._**

**_Mom opens the door then. Lexie ducks her head into my shoulder and Gabe glares at Mom, although she is not paying him any attention._**

**_"I am taking your siblings to practice. We will be back in three hours." That is one hour for soccer, one hour for gymnastics, and one hour to drive to them and back home. "Try not to cause any more trouble."_**

**_"Yes, ma'am," I mutter. I miss the days when she would come over to me and tell me she loved me, even though she has to get on to me sometimes. I miss it because it made me feel as though she was sorry for yelling at me, hitting me, making me cry._**

**_Now, she tells me to "go to your room, I'm tired of looking at you." And that makes my heart feel like someone is reaching into my chest and squeezing it way too tightly._**

**_She closes the door and a few minutes later, we hear the car pulling out of the driveway._**

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

**_After a few more minutes of silence, Gabe says, "Pease, we go park, Bubba Caleb?" _****_I say yes and he jumps up. He opens the backdoor and I say,_**

**_"Go get the backpack so we can put the things we need in it." He runs inside. I follow but instead of seeing him going upstairs to get my bag, he pushes a chair to the fridge._**

**_I watch him as he opens the freezer door, stands on the chair, and gets something out._**

**_I can't see what it is because I am now too busy getting Lexie's shoes on. She is cooperating when, usually, she will fuss and want to put them on herself. I guess mom scared her into listening._**

**_Gabriel comes over then. He has an icepack in his hand._**

**_"For your cheek, Bubba." He says and I have to bite my tongue to not cry, because then he will think he did something wrong._**

**_God, this kid does not get enough credit for how sweet he is._**

**_"Thank you, sweetheart." I tell him, taking it. I put on my cheek, and it does feel better. "Go get my backpack, ok? And put your shoes on."_**

**_"Yes, Bubba." I hate this. I hate that he is listening, because it probably means he is afraid of mom, of her maybe slapping him, too, and so he is behaving, and I hate it so fucking much._**

**_I go to the phone and dial my dad. He is at work and I ask to speak to him. He is a doctor, so they have to page him, and he comes to the phone._**

**_"Hi, Daddy," I say. I'm a boy. 10 years old. And I only call him 'Daddy' when mom has been mean to me._**

**_He sighs because he knows this as well._**

**_"Are you ok, Caleb?"_**

**_Hearing her daddy's voice, Lexie perks up in my arms. "Hi, Daddy!" She squeals._**

**_"Hey there, Princess. How are you?"_**

**_Then, she says something I wish she would not have. "Daddy, Mamma hit Bubba Caleb in da face!"_**

**_I hear my dad take a deep breath in quickly. "Did she now?" He tries to keep his voice light, so as to not scare Lexie by showing he is mad at mom._**

**_"Yeah, she did!"_**

**_Gabe comes back down then. He has my bag, his shoes on, my shoes in his hands, and shows me the inside of my backpack. It has some toys for Lexie to play with, his action figures, and a bottle of sunscreen._**

**_I nod to let him know that he did well on getting those things._**

**_"I am sorry that happened to you, Cal," Daddy tells me. "I will talk to mom when I get home. Do I need to come home now, or are you ok?"_**

**_"Hi, Daddy!" Gabriel says before I can answer._**

**_Dad then asks who all is home, and if mom is there. I tell him mom has dropped everyone off at their practices, and I was calling to say Gabe and Lexie wanted to go to the park and ask his permission to take them._**

**_Usually we would not need permission, but since Lexie and Gabe are so young, I thought it would be good to get daddy's permission. _****_I tell him this and he says he appreciates how responsible it was that I called. _****_It makes me feel _****so good****_ inside when says that, all fuzzy, and I can't stop smiling._**

**_I wish mom would do the same._**

**_He says we can go, but to make sure we have bottles of water, money for the payphone, a snack for Lexie, and an extra pair of underwear and pants, in case she has an accident._**

**_Gabe goes to the fridge and gets three bottles of water. I ask Daddy if I need to take Lexie's sippy cup, but Lexie says yes before he can, so I get her a sippy cup and put ice and water in it._**

**_Then I get some snacks, a sandwich for me and Gabe, and goldfish and cheerios for Lexie. Gabe puts everything in the backpack and puts it on. _****_I have to laugh because he looks so tiny with my giant backpack on._**

**_I tell daddy that we have to pick out pants and underwear for Lexie and then we are going to leave. He sternly tells Gabe and Lexie to listen and do everything I say. They both answer back with "yes, Daddy," and then we hang up._**

**_After Lexie picks out some underwear and pants, and a Barbie doll to play with, we put them in the bag, and I tell Gabe and Lexie to "go potty." I then put Gabe's helmet on him and then mine on, so we can ride our bikes to the park._**

**_I take Lexie's little red wagon and put a rope on the handle, then tie the rope to my bike, and put her in it along with my backpack._**

**_"Okay, guys, you ready?" They both nod. We get on our bikes. _****_I do not have training wheels, but Gabe does because he has not learned how to balance without them. We stop at our Aunt Judy and Charlie's house, to see if any of our cousins want to go to the park._**

**_We have a lot of cousins here. This is because Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie adopt and foster tons of kids. Right now, they have six kids, but they plan to adopt or foster more._**

**_Jessica and Richard, or Jess and Rick, who are 13 and 8, are at soccer practice. Stephanie, who is turning six in a few months, is at swim practice, and Hannah who is only five, is at a friend's house for a sleepover._**

**_That leaves Kevin, who is turning 4 next month, and his brother, Will, who is 2 and a half years old._**

**_"Hey, kids," Aunt Judy says when Gabe knocks on the door. I stay back with Lexie and wave at our aunt. "Are you headed to the park?"_**

**_"Yes, Aunt Judy!" Gabe jumps up and down. "Does um,… does Kevie or Will… wanna come?" Aunt Judy goes back inside and then comes out with Kevin and Will._**

**_Kevin is going to ride in the wagon with Lexie. He has some action figures in his hands and puts them and a bottle of water in the backpack._**

**_Then Aunt Judy gets Will's special red wagon. It is special because it looks just like Lexie's, except his has a buckle put in it, so we can buckle Will in, and he won't try to stand up and fall out while riding._**

**_She ties it onto Gabriel's bike so he can pull Will behind him._**

**_"Do you kids have money for the payphone?" Aunt Judy asks. I say 'yes, ma'am,' back. "Ok. If Will gets too fussy, just give me a ring, and I will come pick him up, okay?"_**

**_I nod and say ok._**

**_We leave and make our way to the park. We sing songs like _****Itsy Bitsy Spider****_ and _****Ten Little Monkeys****_._**

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

**_Once at the park, Gabe and I put our bikes up, we put sunscreen on, and then we run to the playground._**

**_"Pease, sings, Bubba Caleb!" Lexie tells me, pointing to the swings. Will, Kevin, and Gabe run off to the sandboxes, slides, and other parts of the playground._**

**_"Okay, Lexie." I put her in the baby swing, so she won't fall and begin pushing her._**

**_"Higher, Bubba Caleb, go higher!" So, I do it higher. Higher than mom would ever let me do because she says I push it too high. But Lexie giggles the higher I go, so I keep doing it. _****_After a couple of minutes, I get bored. I really want to go run around and I also see one of my friends here. I take Lexie and sit her down._**

**_"Lex, why don't you go play with Kevie, ok?" She nods and runs off towards him. I go to my friend. We play Cops & Robbers. I am the Cop and he is the Robber. He just stole something, and I have to catch him, handcuff him, and put him in jail._**

**_"Freeze, Robber!" I yell. "Put your hands where I can see them." Gabe runs over._**

**_"I wanna play, too, Bubba!"_**

**_"Okay, you can be the one who puts the handcuffs on him. After I tackle him first."_**

**_"Freeze, Robber!" I yell again and chase my friend, whose name is David. David runs away, yelling, "You'll never get me, Copper!"_**

**_"Get back here! Freeze, don't run!" I chase him. "I've almost got you!"_**

**_"No, you don't!"_**

**_"Oh, yes, I do!" I tackle him to the ground, laughing. "I got you! Now Officer Gabriel will handcuff you and put you in the cop car." Gabe pretends to put handcuffs on him. David hangs his head and sighs._**

**_"Aw, man. You got me!" David says. Gabe takes him to "jail" which is really just a part of the play equipment that has bars on the side._**

**_"You are sentenced to life in jail," Gabriel declares. "You can get out in 40 years." Obviously, he does not understand that life means a lot more than 40 years, but I laugh and stay quiet, anyway, because his face is funny. He is trying so hard to be a tough "Judge" who puts people in jail._**

**_"I will get out one day!" David yells. "You just wait and see; there will be no stopping me then!"_**

_**"Not I have anything with it!" I yell back and Gabriel also yells an agreement.**_

* * *

***Meanwhile – normal point of view – with Lexie & Kevin – Will has gone over to Gabe, Caleb, and David***

**_Kevin is over playing with Lexie. They are making sandcastles and just giggling about the normal little kid stuff._**

**_"Look, Lex," Kevin dumps the bucket upside down._**

**_"Woah!" Lexie is amazed, as the sand mold did not fall apart._**

**_"Daddy showed me how! Now the castles will be perfect!" Kevin giggles. "Do yours, do yours!"_**

**_Lexie turns hers upside and it falls apart. Seeing his cousin near tears, Kevin says, "Aw, Lex, its ok!" He gives her a hug, because he knows how disappointing it is for him to have his own castle fall apart._**

**_"I'll show you, okay?' Lexie sniffles and nods her head. "Ok. First, we hafta put the sand in a little bit, and pat it down. See? Pat, pat, pat!" He pretends to play the drums and smiles when it makes Lexie giggle._**

**_"Pat, pat, pat!" Lexie copies him._**

**_"Next, we put more in. Pat, pat, pat. And some more. And more, and more. Pat, pat, pat." It takes two buckets full of trying before they get a sand mold that stays together._**

**_Lexie squeals and giggles, clapping when she dumps it upside down and it doesn't fall apart._**

**_"Now we hafta get flags for our castle!" Keven jumps up, and runs over to the fence, where the trees drop sticks and twigs when the wind blows. He gathers a few up, along with some acorns._**

**_"We can make a circle of dese corns," Lexie tells him. "And da twigs are da flags and dese are da windows."_**

**_Kevin giggles as he listens to Lexie and how she speaks. Unlike he and his siblings, Lexie has yet to learn how the properly pronounce the blended sound of 't-h'. So, instead of "these," "the," etc., she says, 'dese', 'da', and so on._**

**_"Yeah, and this can be the castle for the parents, and this one for the Pwince and Pwincess!" Kevin points to each one. "So, this one gets two windows, and this one gets one."_**

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

***20 minutes later***

**_"You go hide and I'll count!" Kevin yells to Lexie. The two are now playing hide-'n-seek; Kevin is the counter and Lexie is hiding._**

**_"1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10! Ready or not, here I come!" Kevin runs around, listening for Lexie. She likes to give her hiding spot away by giggling._**

**_He listens as he looks. By the monkey bars, by the slide, until he finally spots her in the playhouse._**

**_"Found you!"_**

**_"Aw, man!" Lexie pouts as she climbs out._**

**_"Your turn!" Kevin walks Lexie to the spot where he was counting. "Count to ten, ok?" Lexie nods and closes her eyes, covering them with her hands._**

**_***TW for kidnapping starts here._**

**_She giggles. This is her favorite game._**

**_"1! 2! 3!" She continues until she hears a noise. Being a young child, her attention is immediately drawn from counting and the game._**

**_She turns around. There is a space in the fence behind her. It leads to a path that people take for jogging, biking, or just as a walking trail. She sees Kevin standing there._**

**_Not understanding why her cousin is standing there, where they are not supposed to be, instead of hiding as part of the game, she goes over._**

**_"Kevie! What're you doin'?"_**

**_Kevin looks at her. He has to tilt his head down, as he stands a good three inches taller than she does. He doesn't look happy. He doesn't even look scared. Or mad. Or worried._**

**_In fact, he has a blank expression on his face._**

**_"The man said to come with him, or he will hurt our brothers." If Lexie thought about it, then she would think her cousin's voice sounded like a robot. Even, emotionless, and monotoned._**

**_Lexie is very easily persuaded by people. She loves to give out hugs and say hello to everyone she sees. Her mommy and daddy are trying to teach her about _****Stranger Danger****_._**

**_Would this count as _****Stranger Danger****_?_**

**_"What man?" Lexie asks, because even she is weary of the "come with me or your *insert person's name* will be hurt" type of person._**

**_"The one in the woods." Kevin points to the left, off the path and into the trees._**

**_"But Mommy says I shouldn't go wif stwangers, Kevie, 'member? Don't go wif people you don't know." She repeats what Michael and Sandy have told her._**

**_"The man will hurt our brothers if we don't go with him," Kevin repeats, his voice still in a monotone. He takes her hand. "He won't hurt them if we listen to him." Kevin begins leading her away. "Come on, Lexie."_**

**_The two walk through the fence, down the path, then veer left towards the woods, all the while Caleb is not paying attention._**

**_You know what they say._**

**I only turned away for a second.**

**_**End of TW for kidnapping_**

* * *

***Back with Caleb, Gabriel, David, & Will – Caleb's point of view***

**_"Bubba, do you wanna wrestle?" Gabe asks after we run around on the slides, monkey bars, and I push him on the swings._**

**_I am about to say 'yes' when something stops me._**

**_It's a voice._**

**_Lexie's voice._**

**_It's yelling, "Bubba Caleb, help me! Help, Bubba Caleb, help!" _****_I freeze my whole body and whip around in a circle. I feel like my insides have been soaked with ice water._**

**_Then, David says the question that will stay with me for my entire life, "Hey, Caleb. Didn't you have your sister and little cousin here, too?"_**

**_"Yeah." I say._**

**_I look around and cannot see them. I do see Will. He is playing in the sandbox. He wanted to be pushed on the swings but got bored after a few minutes, so I told him to go play in the sand._**

**_I look around. I can't see Kevin. Or Lexie. I start to panic. No, no, no, no, no._**

**_"Oh, no. No, no, no, no." I mutter aloud. David seems to realize what is happening because he says to Gabe, "Gabey, go play with Will, ok?" Gabriel nods either ignoring me or not hearing what I am mumbling._**

**_"Caleb, calm down, dude. Maybe they are just playing hide-'n-seek. They're only three, and 3-year-olds love to play hide-'n-seek. Let's go look for them, okay?"_**

**_Yes. Yes, Caleb, exactly. 3-year-olds love to play hide-'n-seek. That is probably what is going on. They are just really good at hiding._**

**_David is so smart for his age, at just 7 years old. It is almost like speaking to another 10-year-old. _****_I nod while trying not to cry. But I can't help where my mind goes. _****_This cannot be happening._**

**_This is my fault. Mom will never forgive me. Oh, god, what have I done? I should have watched them better. My stupid, stupid brain. Why can I never remember to focus? To watch them. Why do I always get caught up and forget?_**

**_Mom is going to be so angry with me. And dad. And, oh, god, Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie. They will never forgive me._**

**_I'm pulled to the present by my friend David calling Lexie and Kevin's names. _****_"Lexie! Kevin! Where are you? It's time to come here now!"_**

**_I join him, _****_"Lexie! Kevin! Time to go, where are you? Alexandria, Kevin!"_**

**_It goes on and on and on._**

**_"Alexandria Lynn and Kevin Edward! This is not funny anymore! Where are you?!"_**

**_We look by the swings, the sandboxes, the slides, in the tubes on the play equipment, in the woods. We call their names over and over and over until David notices Gabe and Will crying._**

**_"David," My voice breaks as I look at my friend. I see the tears in his eyes as he realizes just how big this situation is._**

**_We are alone at the park today._**

**_Of all times to not have an adult we can turn to, why the fuck does it have to be today?_**

**_"We need to call your mom and dad, Caleb," David tells me as we head over to calm Gabriel and Will down._**

**_I don't want to. I don't want to confess to my mother that, once again, I was in my own world and not paying attention. That it didn't just _****hurt ****_Lexie and Kevin, but it got them possibly fucking kidnapped._**

**_"Goddammit!" I yell at the top of my lungs. I scare Will and he starts crying louder. I kick the sand toys and I punch the side of the plastic tube slide. My hand starts throbbing, but I don't care._**

**_"This cannot be happening…" I mutter as Gabriel, Will, and David look on. "Please, not today, not them. Please…"_**

_***End of flashback***_

* * *

**I broke this up becuase it was too long. Please do not ask when JJ will appear. I promise it will be soon, so please just be patient, and I hope you enjoy!**

**So… here are some important details to remember(!):**

**1\. There are _not only 3_ kids anymore. There are _now 5_ and _will be more_ – Caleb & Emma are 11, Elijah is 10, Roslyn and her twin brother, Gabriel, are 6.  
2\. Elijah is _now 10 years older_ than _JJ_, and _4 years older_ than _Roslyn_.  
3\. Rosalyn's name is now spelled as ****_Roslyn_**** because that is how JJ pronounced it on the show.  
4\. On July 4 of 1977, one of the Jareau kids, Alexandria, aged 3, and one of their cousins, Kevin, aged 4, were kidnapped from the park. Caleb was watching them along with his little brother, Gabriel, who was 5 at the time (as shown here ^)  
5\. Alexandria "Lexie" Jareau had a twin sister, Stephanie Marie, who was born sleeping.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! I am excited to get this story rolling! :) And please no comments about where JJ is! I promise she will show up in just a few chapters. (less than 6 more chapters)**


	3. Prologue pt 2 (The Missed Loved One)

**_Leads to a Lifetime of Hurt_**

**ETA: I expanded the part where Caleb has his… suicide attempt. I extended to involve him being more… unsure… and questioning whether it is the right decision. Please remember to read with caution at that point!**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for child kidnap scene.**

**Trigger Warning: Attempted Suicide. This heavily contains a detailed scene of attempted suicide, so please read with caution! I will have it marked!**

**Notes: Here is part 2. It will be Caleb's pov again.**

* * *

**_Present time: 1 year later – July 3rd, 1978 – Caleb's point of view cont.*_**

Now you know what happened a year ago.

I was right, too.

Mom _did_ blame me.

"How could you be so stupid?!" She had yelled. "You were responsible for those babies; you were responsible for protecting them. How could you be so fucking stupid?!"

I tried to tell her I was sorry…

"Sorry?! You're SORRY?! Well, guess what, Caleb! Sorry doesn't fucking fix it, DOES IT?! Sorry doesn't bring your sister and cousin back. SORRY doesn't make your poor Aunt and Uncle feel better. It doesn't BRING BACK THEIR SON!"

She had slapped. Of course she had. Three times in just a span of a few seconds. _Slap! Slap! Slap!_

My cheek hurt so much. I was sobbing like a baby. I think she even made me cut my cheek with my braces.

The police officer practically had to tackle her off of me while my dad took me into the other room.

"I wish it was YOU!" She had yelled as Daddy picked me up like when I was five and carried me away. "I wish it WAS YOU! YOU should be the one that is out there, SCARED AND ALONE! You, Caleb, not Lexie or Kevin!"

That broke me inside. I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest.

I felt like it as ripped out and I was watching someone stomp all over it, without being able to do one fucking thing about it.

I really thought it was my fault. I still do sometimes. When something reminds me of Lexie – her favorite Sesame Street character, her shoes by the door, her blanket in the car, her fucking favorite red sippy cup in the damned dishwasher.

Her bed with her favorite pink and purple sheets and comforter and pillow and teddy bear and toys in the bathtub and baggies of carrots in the fridge and that stupid, fucking plastic rubber duck she always carried around.

I should have watched her better. I should have watched Kevin more. I should have included them in my game, pushed them on the swings, went on the slides with them, played hide-'n-seek with them. I should have done better.

If I had just _focused more_, if I had just _payed attention_ like I was _supposed to_, then Lexie and Kevin would be here, today, and not missing or presumed dead.

The police and thousands of people helped look for my baby sister and cousin. They put up fliers, on cars, light poles, street lamp poles, windows of the grocery stores, people's fences, Wal*Mart. Everywhere.

My mom and dad went on the TV. My Uncle Charlie and Aunt Judy went on the TV. They asked the person who took Kevin and Lexie to return them home.

They asked if anyone saw, heard, or knew anything, to please call the police. They begged for the safe return of Lexie and Kevin.

I was not allowed to help.

I wanted to. I wanted to help make Missing Persons posters, or search the woods, or do _something_ that would be helpful.

But I was not allowed to. Mom would not let me out of the house. It was not for the same reason for Emma, or Elijah, or Gabriel, or Roslyn.

No, she did not want them out of the house, except for school, – which mom and dad had driven them for instead of them riding the bus, – because she was afraid this person would come back and snatch them as well.

But me?

I was not allowed out of the house, except for school, – which I was walked or rode the bus for, except on days where Dad forced Mom to let me ride in the car, – because I had _screwed up enough_. I had _caused_ _enough problems_, and I would "help" by _staying out of their way_, _keeping my mouth shut_, and basically _becoming invisible_.

I prayed every morning, every night, and sometimes randomly in the day, for Lexie and Kevin to come home.

I couldn't sleep more than a few hours at night because my dreams would be haunted with Lexie and Kevin begging for help, with me watching them getting snatched up, but never being able to catch up to them.

And with those words that only I heard, right before David and I realized something was gone.

_"Bubba Caleb, help me! Help, Bubba Caleb, help!"_ These words haunted me then, and still do now.

So I begged mom to let me help. I begged her to forgive me. I begged her, over and over.

I said…

_"Let me help, Mom. Please. I can go look in the woods, or print posters, or hand them out, or help dad with what to say on TV."_

That turned into…

_"I love you, Mommy, and I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me. Please."_

Until, eventually, that became…

_"Do you hate me?! Do you? Do you really wish it was me? Well, guess what! SO DO I! I WISH it was ME. I wish I was DEAD. I wish I was gone, so you didn't have to deal with me anymore. It would be so much better, WOULDN'T IT, Mom? If I were gone, dead, not here, if it were me. Well, guess what. After today, you won't have to worry about it anymore. I won't be your problem, anymore."_

My mom had been prescribed Xanax because she got to where she would not let my siblings leave the house, even for school. Then _she_ would not leave the house.

She even lost her job.

And finally, she would just not leave her bedroom, not even to eat or go to the bathroom.

She made sure I knew it was my fault.

_I wouldn't need these if you weren't so careless. _– She shook her bottle of pills in my face.

_You see here, Caleb. If you had watched over those babies like you were supposed to, then everything would be fine._ – Here, she pointed to where Roslyn and Emma had to sleep in a different room, because they couldn't be in the same bedroom as Lexie's toddler bed.

_The only reason for this is you, Caleb._ – Here, Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie had just told her about how Will regressed and started wearing diapers 24/7 again, and how Hannah and Stephanie were having panic attacks, and how Jess and Rick needed counseling for their nightmares.

_If you had just done your job. Why couldn't you do what you were asked for once? _– The news was playing a loop of Mom, Dad, Uncle Charlie, and Aunt Judy begging for the return of Kevin and Lexie.

_You see that?_ She asked this after coming out of Roslyn and Emma's room.

_Your sister wouldn't be wetting her bed all the time, your little brother wouldn't be having nightmares, Elijah wouldn't be failing school, and Emma wouldn't be scared to leave the house, if you weren't so _irresponsibly_!_

Emma was scared to leave the house because she did not want to be taken as well.

And Gabriel was having dreams that it was _him_ who was kidnapped.

Elijah was failing behind in school because he was up all night worrying about where Lexie and Kevin are, and so he was tired and unfocused.

And Roslyn was having bad dreams, as well, except she was also wetting the bed.

I knew it was my fault. No matter how much my Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie said otherwise. No matter how many times Daddy said,

"No, Cal, it is most certainly _not_ your fault. You had a big job, taking care of four kids under the age of five. It was so easy for you to get distracted; you can't always be looking at everyone all the time. It is not your fault. Please do not listen to your mother."

Even Nana and Sabba, Daddy's parents, said it was not my fault. Mom's mother, Mee-Mee, agreed with Mom. She said I should have focused more, paid attention more, and should not have been "off in my own world" like I always am.

But it did not matter what my uncles, aunts, Dad, Nana, or Sabba said. Because _I_ knew, it _was_ my fault.

* * *

***** TW for attempted suicide – Caleb is still retelling the events of 1977; it is now November 1977 *****

So, one day, when Mom took a pill and actually let Emma, Eli, Gabe, and Roz leave the house for school, I made a decision.

I remember I spent nearly 20 minutes pacing around. I was unsure if I really wanted to do it. Would it _really_ make things better? Mom probably would not care, but what about Dad, my Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie?

Then, once I decided to go through with it… I had to figure out _what _I was going to do.

I used the computer – yes, I was _that_ desperate to end my life – and I looked up…

God, I don't even want to _say it_ now…

I looked up…

I–…

The search… was for… "how to commit suicide"…

I looked through the answers and…

I then went back to… did I really want to do this?

God, I even left the house that day!

I walked to the store, bought a soda and candy bar, and came back home.

I watched TV and tried to ignore that bottle of pills sitting on Mom's bathroom counter.

I made myself lunch – grilled cheese – but I ate only two bites.

I paced more, I fought with myself, I asked over and over _do I _really_ want to do this? Should I do this? Is this the end I want for myself?_

I made it until almost four in the afternoon.

I knew that if I was going to do this, it needed to be within the next few minutes because Dad has been picking up from school and we have been getting home at just before four in the afternoon.

And that was the day, exactly 4 months, 3 days, 1 hour, and 43 minutes after Lexie and Kevin went missing, at exactly 3:45 p.m. on November 7th, 1978…

… I tried to end it all.

I went upstairs to Mom and Dad's room.

I went to their bathroom.

I took out 7 pills from her bottle. I remember it was seven because they made two groups of three plus one more when I poured them onto the counter top.

I took a cup and filled it up with water.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked horrible – I was way too skinny, my cheeks looked sunken in, my eyes had nearly solid black circles under them from me not sleeping.

Did I really want to do this?

I remember Lexie's screams…

_"Bubba Caleb, help me! Help, Bubba Caleb, help!"_

I decided I did really want to do it. Because then, Mom would not have to look at the reminder, the _reason_ her baby was missing. Neither would Aunt Judy and Uncle Charlie.

I took one pill. I placed it on my tongue, and took a big gulp of water, washing the pill down my throat.

Then I took another.

Then, two at one time.

Then the last three together.

I went to my room and laid down on the bottom bunk. It was Gabriel's bed; I didn't want him to have to sleep here after I was found. I didn't want to be the reason for another problem.

But I could not climb to the top because I was already feeling weird.

My head was fuzzy, like it was filled with static but also cotton, at the same time. And my arms and legs felt heavy, like they were made of cement.

I couldn't make myself stand up, it was like I was no longer in control of the part of my brain that works to make legs walk.

And I was sleepy, very sleepy.

I wanted to just go to close my eyes. And for it to all end.

So I did.

I closed my eyes. And then, I felt nothing.

* * *

Until I reopened my eyes and I was in a field of grass. There were trees, flowers, sidewalks. It looked so cool.

There were all kinds of kids, older ones, like 16 or 17, and really young, like 1 or 2. Some playing football or soccer. A bunch of 7-year-olds playing tag.

A group of 10- and 11-year-olds playing a game Cops & Robbers. Still, some kids were playing on swings, and others were drawing hopscotches.

And then, I heard my name being called.

I looked around, trying to find the source of it.

A little boy, who looked to be my age, and a little girl, who looked just like Lexie – blonde hair, dimples, and a smile that matched Alexandria's perfectly.

Oh God, I thought. No, no, no.

Is this Lexie?

Is she dead?

Oh, God, please don't let this be Lexie.

The boy had dark hair that was curly, blue eyes, and freckles.

And god, did he look just like Daddy.

The little girl turned out to not be Lexie.

"Who are you?" I had asked, confused.

"My name is Jeremiah," I felt oddly at peace with that knowledge, like he was friend who was reintroducing themselves after being gone for a while instead of a complete stranger. "And this is Stephanie."

I remember that name – my cousin? No, no… Oh, that's right. Lexie had a twin sister. Mom and Daddy named her Stephanie Marie.

"Hi, Jeremiah and Stephanie. My name is Caleb."

"I know," He said. "I've been watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Yeah, like a Guardian Angel!" Stephanie sounded just like Lexie when she spoke. She had the same smile and looked the same, but her eyes, instead of being blue like Lex, they were green like… well, just like mine.

I just nodded. "I saw what you did. You took some of your mom's pills, didn't you?" Jeremiah asked this question.

Again, I felt peaceful, like I could say yes but he would not be disappointed. "Yes. I did. I just wanted to go away," I felt I had to explain. "I didn't want my mom to have to look at the reason that her daughter and nephew were gone."

"Well, I'm not sure that you going away would be the best thing."

Just as I went to ask what he was talking about, he pointed to the ground. And suddenly, I saw myself. I saw my bedroom and my… body?… lying on Gabriel's bed.

I saw my dad and my baby brother standing in the room. My dad was shaking me, begging me to wake up, to come back, saying how he had lost his daughter and he couldn't lose me, too.

Gabriel was just standing there, staring, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

I saw my sisters and Elijah. I saw paramedics rushing into the room. How did they get there all of a sudden? Was I already dead? Did they come back home from school this quickly? How much time had really passed since I took the pills?

"Your dad, your sisters and brothers, they need you, Caleb," Jeremiah told me. "Your mom will come around. She will see the wrong she is doing by blaming you for your sister and cousin's disappearances."

I really hoped he was right.

The ground went solid again. And I could no longer see my family. My head snapped up to Jeremiah.

"You have two choices, Caleb," He said. "If you wish to stay here, you go that way." He pointed to our right side. "You will receive your wings, and be able to come back here, with the rest of these children, with me and Stephanie."

I swallowed roughly.

"What's my second choice?"

"You go that way." He pointed to the left. "And you go home. To your parents. To your siblings. To your family."

I thought about it. I couldn't leave Gabe and Roz. And Emma, she may need her twin brother. Elijah needs someone to teach him how to be strong, how to be a helpful big brother. And maybe I could salvage my relationship with mom.

"I want to go home." I said firmly, leaving no room for Jeremiah or Steph to wonder if I am sure. He just nodded.

"Goodbye, Caleb," He had said, as I began walking away, to the left, to go home.

I kept walking until the sun and clouds and trees and grass disappear and it went black.

And then I heard beeping. It was like I was underwater and it was muffled at first.

Then it became clearer.

I slowly opened my eyes, then squeezed them shut because of the bright lights, and slowly reopened them.

I look around without moving much. Elijah and Emma were doing their homework at the table. Roz was coloring beside them and Gabriel was playing with his action figures.

I tried to speak, but my throat hurt. I made noise, though, and Emma looked up from her papers.

"Caleb!" She had yelled. She jumped up and ran to the side. She opened the door and yelled for Daddy.

Daddy came rushing into the room. He was crying and saying how glad he was that I was here, that I was alive. My siblings and Emma were climbing onto the bed to hug me.

Roz and Gabe were crying, Emma was saying how sorry she was that she blamed me, Elijah was telling me how happy he was that I was alive.

I told Dad how sorry I was that I tried to kill myself. He said not to be sorry, that he should have been there more for me, that he knew Mom was blaming me and he should have seen just how bad I was taking it.

I said I promise to never do it again. I remembered what Jeremiah had said, that my family needed me. Mom wasn't there but maybe, just maybe, she would be able to forgive me, and love me again.

I went home after a couple of days in the hospital. Dad put Mom's pills in a safe, one that we, one that _I_, could not get into.

We tried to brush off what happened. No one spoke of it for days. Mom refused to acknowledge it; she refused to listen to Daddy when he suggested I _talk to someone_.

_Not this family_, she had said. _We are not so weak that we need to speak to shrinks_.

But I needed to talk to someone. I needed to, because I needed someone, somewhere, to speak about what I was feeling, about how I feel Mom really did wish it was me that was taken, about how I still had nightmares, of Lexie begging me to, _Bubba Caleb, help me! Help, Bubba Caleb, help_.

Finally, Daddy said he had enough. Other people may brush these things under the rug, whatever that means, and other families may not speak about one's suicide attempt, about one trying to _end their life_, because that is what happened to me – I tried to fucking _kill myself_.

I was 10 fucking years old, and my life was so fucked up that I had to take a bunch of fucking pills and almost fucking kill myself.

Daddy said _fuck it_.

He had never cursed in front of us before, but on that day, on November 25th, Dad said _fuck it, fuck you, Sandra, I am booking our child an appointment, I am going to get our child the help he needs. I am going to make sure our child feels fucking supported because no matter what you say, IT WAS NOT HIS FUCKING FAULT that Alexandria and Kevin WERE FUCKING KIDNAPPED!_

So, on November 30th, of 1977, me, Dad, Roslyn, Emma, and even Gabriel, walked into the doctor's office.

We sat down, we waited, I was called back, Dad came with me, we got started, and that was my first appointment.

Then, three weeks later, my fifth appointment, because I was going twice a week, I broke down and explained everything.

I said I took my sister, brother, and two cousins to the park.

I said I was so sorry; I didn't mean to not pay attention.

I said I was busy playing with my friend, and entertaining Will, and playing with Gabriel.

I said I forgot about Lexie and Kevin.

I said I didn't pay attention, I _should have payed attention, I am so sorry I didn't pay attention_.

Dr. Brooks, a kind woman who reminds me of a fun, young grandma, said _it was not your fault. You were 10 years old, you had four kids to look after, you were playing with your brother, that is a good thing, you were tending to your cousin, that is also a good thing. It is not your fault. You were busy, you got distracted, you got overwhelmed, there was no way you could have kept up with four kids under the age of five._

I said I should have, though, because I am the oldest, and it is my job, my responsibility. I should have looked after them, protected them, payed attention to them, been able to focus on all of them.

I said I was so sorry.

I said I think my mom hates me.

I said mom said she wished it was me, and not Kevin and Lexie, who was kidnapped.

I said I agreed with her – they must be so scared, wherever they are

Dr. Brooks went and got my dad then. He hugged me and he apologized to me and he said he loved so very much, and he just kept saying _I'm sorry. I should have come home. I should have been there for you. I am so, so sorry, Cal. I am so sorry, baby._

It would be another 3 months, another nearly 25 times of going to Dr. Brooks, of Gabriel going and Roslyn talking and Emma saying she wanted to sit in with me, and even Elijah attending a few sessions.

Another 3 months before I was finally able to say…

It was not my fault.

I was 10 years old.

I was overwhelmed.

I had too much responsibility.

I was paying attention to Will, and playing with Gabriel, and watching Will, and making sure Gabriel was safe.

It was not my fault.

I was 10 years old.

I was overwhelmed.

I could not have watched all four kids, every second of every minute of the entire time we were at the park.

I was trying to keep up with a toddler, and a 5-year-old, and play myself. I was trying to keep Will safe and I was trying to keep Gabriel entertained.

It was not my fault.

I was 10 years old.

I was overwhelmed.

_It was not my fault because I was 10 years old and I got overwhelmed._

It is not my fault my sister went missing. It is not my fault my cousin went missing.

And now, here it is. Nearly one solid year, 365 days since my baby sister went missing. Since Aunt Judy said goodbye to two of her children, with only one returning later that evening.

I don't blame myself, as much. Well, I say that, but still sometimes, like during Christmas, or Easter, or even on Mother's Day, and I am reminded of what happened, of what we lost that day, one year ago.

I see Lexie in every blonde haired, blue-eyed, 4-year-old little girl that I come across, at the grocery store, at the preschool, the park, at the Dentist office.

And I see Kevin in every 5-year-old little boy who has dirty-blonde hair and green eyes, with a dimple in just their right cheek. You would think something like would be so rare that those little boys _would_ be Kevin.

Apparently, it's not as rare as I would love it to be.

I know it is not my fault. I was 10 years old; I was too young and overwhelmed to be able to keep up with a toddler, two 3-year-olds, and a 5-year-old. But still, I can't help but think it at times.

My mom may still blame me. She may be able to look at me now, and not immediately glare at me, but I know, I know she still blames me.

But so much can happen in a year.

My cousin Will is now 3 and a half years old. He speaks in complete sentences, knows his letters, some numbers, and some shapes. He can ride a tricycle. He can now wear underwear and not diapers, because he is doing better with his regression.

Jessica, now 14, is no longer having nightmares. Rickie is, but he is only 9 years old now, and Dad said the anniversary of his brother's disappearance is bringing up bad memories. Hannah and Stephanie only have a couple of panic attacks every few months.

They have all went to Dr. Brooks, as well, so they are doing much better than at the beginning. I am now 11 years old, at 12; Elijah is 10 years old; Gabe and Roz are 6. Roz will be in the first grade, but Gabey is going back to kindergarten.

:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/

And Mom and Dad?

Well, they just happen to be pregnant, again.

In fact, even though Mom is due in September, she has been crying and stressing and not been doing so good the last few weeks.

So much so that, she went into labor last week. On June 26 and 27. It was early in the evening. We had played outside all day. Dad took off work and stayed home with us.

We played in the sprinkler, which is really the fire hydrant outside. Someone from the Fire Department came and turned it on and all the kids on out block played in the water.

Then, we had a picnic in the backyard – sandwiches, cookies, and Kool-Aide.

Mom was doing fine, or, at least, we thought so.

Roslyn did something, – I don't know what, – and then all of a sudden, my mom was crying.

Something happened, and the next thing I know, Emma and I were told to watch our siblings, and Mom and Dad were in the car, driving away.

On June 26th, Mom and Dad went to the hospital and Mom gave birth to two babies, 9 weeks early.

They were healthy dad said, the doctors told him and Mom it was miracle. Babies born this early should not be this healthy. But there they were!

A baby girl and a baby boy 9 weeks premature, but healthy as they possible could be – our sister's temperature was great, she had nice pink lips, and she can eat formula from a teeny-tiny bottle. She weighed only 1.5 pounds, which is so tiny, and she is 15 ½ inches long. She is gaining weight like she is supposed to and now weighs 1.9 ounces.

Our new brother needs help breathing and a feeding tube. He cannot manage his temperature on his own, so he is in a special bed with a light that keeps him warm. He also weighed 1.5 pounds and was 15 inches long. He is not gaining weight like he should be and that is putting extra worries on Mom and Daddy.

A normal baby, born at 9 months, should be at least 7 lbs. and a minimum of 17 inches long. As you can see, they are both very small, and that is because of being born so early.

_It should not be possible_, muttered the doctor when he thought no one was listening.

The babies should be _dead_. I hate that word; why would he say that? But they are not. They are here, alive, in the hospital, getting the help they need.

Oh, that's great, you say? Well we thought so too. I mean, three sets of twins. That is awesome! And cool, because then it would be 2 babies (me and Emma), 1 baby (Elijah), 2 babies (Gabey & Roz), 2 babies (Lexie & Stephanie), and then two babies again.

However, that is not what happened.

There was one baby left.

Yes, that's right, not twins, but _triplets_. So now it is 2 babies, 1 baby, 2 babies, 2 babies, and 3 babies.

Mom is in the hospital still. I'm not sure of the details. Dad was speaking to Mee-Mee, Mom's mother, and Nana and Sabba, Dad's parents, – I was spying on them, – and he was saying that Mom's contractions just randomly stopped. That meant, unless Mom had a C-Section, then she would still be pregnant with a baby.

I didn't know that was possible! I thought if you were pregnant with more than one baby, then all babies were born at the same time!

At least, that is what happened with me and Emma, and Roz and Gabe.

But not this time. No, this time… well, this time Mom had two babies on June 26 and 27th, one at 11:57 p.m. and the other at 12:07 a.m.

And she is still pregnant with the third baby because Dad said he wanted her not to have a C–Section. To give the next baby a little more time to grow.

Hopefully, this baby will stay in Mom's belly for a while longer, so he or she is not born as early as the other two babies.

* * *

**And there it is. Caleb tries to kill himself (I thought it might be a reasonable thing to do, with all the stress and pressures he had going on). Don't worry! Just because it has been a year, does not mean he no longer has those thoughts. I will touch on that every once in a while.**

**Also! They have three more kids! A sister and a brother, and another baby, who has yet to be born. Can you guess which one is Jenny?**

**Please review and let me know what you thought. The next chapter will be up soon. :)**


	4. The Anniversary (July 4th, 1978)

**_3 – The Anniversary_**

**Edited: 1/22/2020. Changed Caleb & Emma's ages from 12 years old to 11 years old.**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

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**Thank you to those that reviewed on the last chapter. I hope you all are enjoying this story. I am so, so excited to really get the ball rolling because I think my readers (those that have been with me a while regarding my CM stuff) will really love this story!**

**Remember to follow so you are up to date on the newest chapters because I am posting quite a bit each month.**

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**Reminders: Mee-Mee is Sandy's mom. Sandy's father perished in Hurricane Camille, back in 1969. Nana & Sabba are Michael's parents. Jo-Jo is Emma-Jo's nickname. Cal is Caleb's nickname. Roslyn is now "Roz" as that is what JJ called her. Gabey is pronounced "Gabe-E".**

**Notes: Two different points of views in this one. Also much shorter. I am slowly working my way up to introducing JJ! We see three (one new) characters in this one - Sandy's mother (Regina), Michael, and also Roslyn.**

**Notes 2: I really shouldn't do this. At this rate, I'll run out of pre-written chapters by the end of January… But here is the next chapter!**

**_Kids in this chapter:_**

**_Caleb/Emma: 11 years old  
Elijah: 10 years old  
Roslyn/Gabriel: 6 years old_**

**Enjoy :)**

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**_Tuesday, July 4th, 1978_**

* * *

**_*Jareau Residence – On the way to the Community Center – Caleb's point of view*_**

We are going to the Community Center today. We are having a Candlelight Vigil for Lexie and Kevin. That is where we light candles in honor of them. Today has been a very stressful day.

Emma is in a bad mood and is grounded for a week.

Gabriel has been crying all day – because his sandwich was cut into triangles, not squares; because he wanted to ride in the very back seat, not the middle; because he wanted to help dad carry the candles, not Emma and Elijah, and everything in between.

Elijah has been super quiet and so has Roz. I have been stressed, but I can't say so because _I don't have reason to be upset._

I know I don't believe it anymore, but mom still blames me for Lexie and Kevin going missing. So does Mee-Mee.

So, I couldn't say I miss Lexie today. I couldn't say I miss Kevin. I couldn't say, _wow, Kevin would be 5 years old next month_. I couldn't say_, I hope Lexie and Kevin are found soon, even though it has been a year._ I couldn't say anything having to do with them.

Mom isn't even at home, but I didn't want to say anything to anger Mee-Mee. She was in a bad enough mood. Mee-Mee came over this morning to help Dad get us ready. She was in a bad mood – she still _is_ in a bad mood. She _told_ Roslyn to stop playing and "go get your fucking shoes on."

To Gabriel it was, "I don't give a damn if you wanted square pieces of your sandwich. Cut that squalling out before I give you a reason to cry!"

To me it was, "_God_, why can't you do anything you are told!" I wasn't surprised _because_ Mee-Mee usually says that _to_ _me_. She is like Mom in that way.

She also told me to, "Go help your brother put his damned shoes on, _now_!"

Emma and Elijah have avoided her ranting and yelling. They stayed outside after making themselves lunch. Then they helped dad carry the stuff to the car. Emma stayed away from her after Mee-Mee tried to hit her with the wooden spoon.

Lucky them.

* * *

**_*15 minutes later – Roslyn's point of view*_**

We are all in the car together. We are going to see Mommy. She is at the hospital because she has to have my baby sister or baby brother. But guess what! She already had two babies, – like me and Gabey are two babies, and Jo-Jo and CJ are two babies!

Daddy said she has another baby in her belly. He said that three babies are called _twiplets_. That is when you have more than two babies, but less than four babies. Cause 3 is bigger than two, and smaller than 4, ya'know!

Mee-Mee is here too. She is in a bad mood. She was really hateful to everyone this morning.

I wish she would be nicer. She said she doesn't care that Mommy is in the hospital; she said that is not a reason for Emma to speak to her _dis-re-spect-fully_, or for Gabey to cry, or for me to want Daddy to help me put my clothes on.

I miss Mommy a lot. And I hope she is ok. I wish Mee-Mee would be nicer. I wish Mee-Mee would hug us like Daddy does. I wish she would say Mommy will be ok, like Nana does. I wish she would be nice and hug Emma when she is mean, like Sabba does.

We are finally at the hospital. Daddy parks the car and then everyone gets out, "Little kids get Daddy, Mee-Mee, or a big kids' hand." Daddy tells us. It's a rule. I hold Bubba Caleb's hand and Gabey gets a piggyback ride from Daddy.

We have to go in and then go to the elevator. We stay together so no one gets lost. We go up the elevator. I get to push the button this time! We go up, up, up, until we get to the special mommy and baby floor.

"Daddy, do you think Mommy will like the picture I drawed for her?" Gabey says to Daddy. We drew pictures this morning. I hope mine makes Mommy happy.

"I think Mommy will love your picture," Daddy tells Gabey. This makes Gabey smile. Sometimes, Mommy is mean to Gabey when he shows her his pictures. That is 'cause of him not drawing as good as me or Bubba Caleb or Sissy Emma.

We walk and walk and walk until we get to Mommy's room. My little brother and little sister are not at this hospital. They had to go to a special kid and baby hospital, because this one could not help them like the special kid and baby hospital could

Daddy knocks on Mommy's door, then opens it. It's polite to do that. You have say "knock, knock" before entering someone else's room or house.

"Hi, Mommy!" Gabey runs over to Mommy's bed.

"Hi, sweetie," Mommy says back to him. "And hello to everyone else."

"Mommy, I made you a picture!" I pull the picture out of pocket that in on jeans. "See? That is you, and Daddy, and Bubba Caleb, and Bubba Eli, and Bubba Gabey, and Sissy Emma. And here is our new Sissy and our new Bubba!"

"I made you a picture, too, see, see?" Gabey shows Mommy his picture. "Do you like it, do you, do you?"

Mommy says she loves his picture, too. That's surprising! Bubba Cal and Bubba 'Liza show Mommy the cards they made her. And Sissy Emma gives Mommy the picture _she_ made.

We talk with Mommy for a while. She asks us about if we are behaving for Daddy, and what we have been doing.

Daddy doesn't tell her that Sissy Emma got grounded for a week, I wonder why? I don't say anything, though. Cause it is none of my business. And if I do, than Uncle Jack will find out, and he might make someone else disappear like he did with Lexie!

After a little while, Bubba Eli accidently says Lexie's name. And how he misses her. And how we are going to the Candlelight Thingy for Sissy Lexie and Cousin Kevin.

Mommy starts crying after he says that. She really misses Sissy Lexie, and sometimes she gets so sad, that Daddy gets super worried.

Probably because the last time she got super sad and worried, and started crying, Daddy had to bring her to the hospital, and then she had our new sissy and brother!

"Okay, everyone, I think it may be time to leave," Daddy says to everyone. "Regina, will you please take the kids downstairs and wait on me?"

Mee-Mee says yes and then tells us to say goodbye to Mommy and to go outside.

"Bye, Mommy!" I say quickly. "I love you!"

Mee-Mee pushes us all outside and closes the door.

* * *

**_*Normal point of view*_**

"Honey, it is ok," Michael tries to soothe Sandy. He needs her to calm otherwise she will go into labor again. And 1 week is not enough for the chances of them losing their third baby to taken down a couple of notches.

"I forgot!" Sandy sobs. "How could I forget? How could I not remember that today is the day my baby girl was taken? I'm a horrible mother, Michael, God, what kind of mother forgets something like that?!"

Michael sighs quietly as he wraps his arms around his wife.

"Oh, baby, it's ok. It isn't your fault. You have had a very busy week, and it just slipped your mind, but Sandy, that does _not_ mean you are horrible mother. You are a great mom. You love each and every one of your children, you carried _three _babies to near term. You are not a bad mother, it just slipped you mind, is all. Okay, honey?"

As Michael tries to calm Sandy down, talking her through taking deep breathes and regulating her breathing, telling her it is ok, his worst fear comes true.

"Ah!" Sandy suddenly lets out a yelp and grabs for her back. That is when the doctors run into the room and Michael is pushed out to the hallway.

He hopes it was just a muscle strain, god _please _let it be a muscle strain.

She still has 8 weeks to go. Two months. God, please, he begs as his eyes slide shut. Please let it be just a muscle strain. Just two more weeks. Two weeks to get it 6 weeks early. A baby can survive 6 weeks early more than they can 8 weeks.

_Please, please, please._

He makes it a mini chant in his head. Praying and pleading and hoping and wondering how the hell he is going to explain to his other 5 children, and the two babies in the NICU at Philadelphia's Children's Hospital, that their baby brother or baby sister didn't make it.

How do you tell two 11-year-olds, a 10-year-old, and two 6-year-olds that their baby sibling was born too early and they died? None of them were really old enough to understand when he had to explain about Stephanie, but now they are older, and most definitely _will_ remember it.

He prays for it to be a muscle strain. He prays for the baby to survive if he or she _is_ born this early.

God, please, please, please.

The sound of a door opening grabs Michael's attention.

His eyes snap open, and he looks at the doctor. The one that told him 1 week ago that Sandy's contractions had suddenly stopped, but they could deliver the third baby through C-Section. The doctor who then told him they would watch Sandy, monitor her, to make sure her contractions held off as long as possible.

But as he looks at the doctor, the one that gave him _hope_ 1 week ago…

He knows it's going to be anything _but_ this time.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jareau," Doctor Hamilton says gravely. "But I am afraid your wife's contractions have started up again, and there is no waiting this time."

* * *

**And there it is! Just two more chapters until Baby Jareau #3 is born, and you get to find out which Triplet Jennifer is! After that, they will officially be named in chapter 8. :)**

**Please review and let me know what you thought. :) Shoutout to ****_Kymbryan2015_****. She was a big help for me to bounce ideas off her for the majority of this story!**

**P.S. Give me 4 reviews and I'll post the next chapter! (yes, I am using bribery, but I have 15 pre-written chapters, so I am allowed to do it XD)**

**** notes for this chapter:**

**Sandy was shown to be nicer here. She is not a bad mom in this story; she simply makes some choices that are not so good. The saying ****_don't judge a book by the cover_**** applies to her because on the outside, she is a overly strict, unsympathetic mother, but on the inside, she is struggling with many things that lead to that kind of behavior.**

**Any questions about the upcoming NICU stay for the Triplets, their future outlook, etc. just leave them in a review or PM. I will try to answer, but if I cannot do so without leaking spoilers then I will not be able to answer. :)**


	5. The Wait (July 4th, 1978)

**_Chapter 5 - The Wait_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs unless otherwise noted.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T.**

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**Thank you to those who reviewed. I changed the title as you can see, thought this title might suit it better.**

* * *

**Reminders: Mee-Mee is Sandy's mom. Nana & Sabba are Michael's parents. Jo-Jo is Emma's nickname.**

**_Kids in this chapter:_**

**_Caleb/Emma: 11 years old  
Elijah: 10 years old  
Roslyn/Gabriel: 6 years old_**

**Here we go! :)**

* * *

**_*Meanwhile, back at Jareau Residence – Elijah's point of view*_**

Our grandmother takes us back home after we leave the hospital. We don't even go to the Community Center for the Candlelight Vigil.

I guess we are not going to honor our little sister and cousin, who are still missing.

We go inside the house and everyone is quiet.

Not even Gabriel is speaking. I guess everyone is worried about Mom. I mean, I am. I may only be 10 years old, but I do understand what Dad said when he told us that the baby mom is still pregnant with might not be born alive.

This is because babies who are born at 9 weeks early only had 7 months to grow. Their lungs and brains and other organs may not be developed enough for them to survive outside the womb.

That is what a pregnant lady's belly is called – a womb. I know this because I want to be a doctor like Dad, except I want to be a baby doctor. I will help Moms and Dads take care of their babies, and I would assist woman when they are in labor.

I would tell them gently that it is going to be ok, and that their babies are in the best care, and I would make sure to only get the _best_ doctors and nurses on the team that will take care of their newborns.

I hope Mom has the best doctors, too. I hope they are gentle with her and I hope they do the best to help our new baby brother, new sister, and the third baby.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

**_*Later*_**

I am in my room reading a book while my older brother, Caleb, builds with Legos when we hear shouting.

We are waiting for our Nana and Sabba to come and pick us up because no one wants to be near our other grandmother, our Mee-Mee, who is our mom's mother, because she is being too mean, and it is making every extremely stressed out.

I immediately know whom it is that is shouting. I see Caleb look over at me and I know he knows whom it is also.

We both jump up and run downstairs.

Mee-Mee and Emma are shouting at each other.

"I hate you!" Emma screams. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Can't you see that he was worried about Mom?" I wonder who she is talking to, and as I look around the kitchen, I see my little brother, Gabriel, crying, holding his cheek.

My heart sinks.

Mee-Mee slapped him, I just know it. I look at Caleb and see he has come to the same conclusion.

"Why are you not worried?!" Emma continues to shout. "Just because you are not worried, just because you can ignore when your fucking daughter is in the goddamn hospital, does not mean that Gabriel, who is only 6 fucking years old, can do it, too!"

Caleb cusses under his breath. He knows that if he does not get Emma away from Mee-Mee, then Mee-Mee may do something bad, like slapping Emma, or spanking her with a belt.

Caleb runs over to Emma and pulls her away from Mee-Mee. I go over to Gabriel, who is still crying.

"Hey, Bubba," I say to him softly. I move his hand gently and look at the handprint on his cheek. "Okay, it will be all right," I say.

I take his hand and go outside to where I saw Caleb practically dragging Emma.

"I can't stay here," Emma basically growls. "If I stay here any longer, I will definitely do something I regret." Then she adds in a lower voice, what we probably were not meant to hear, "Like slapping that bitch in her own face."

Gabriel lets out a sniffle and whines, "Jo-Jo…," And just like always, the anger dissipates from Emma's body as she turns to look at our little brother.

"Oh, Gabey," She whispers softly. "Let Jo-Jo see your cheek." Gabe moves his hand and she examines the redness. She then kisses his cheek and sits in a lawn chair to let him climb into his lap.

Whenever Gabriel is hurt, or sad, he always goes to Emma for comfort. Emma coos at him and hugs him and kisses his cheek a couple more times.

"You can't go back in there, Em," Caleb finally says after several minutes of us being quiet.

"I know, but where else are we going to go? Nana and Sabba said they wouldn't be here until later."

"We can go to my friend's house," I speak up. "Debbie. All we have to do is tell Mee-Mee we are going to a friend's house, and that we will be back later. We can call Nana and Sabba on the way; there's a payphone a few blocks away from her house. Then, we leave a note for Dad to call us when he gets home."

Emma and Caleb stay quiet for a while. I know what they are thinking – they are hoping Dad will be home early. They are hoping that what happened earlier, with Mom, does not mean she went into labor again.

But I know better. I have to if I am going to become a doctor when I grow up. I have to know the signs of labor and I have to know not to pretend that Mom was not in labor again, just because that is better than the alternative.

"Guys, look, I know you probably don't want to realize it, but," And I lower my voice for this next part, so Gabriel, who is now on the ground drawing with sidewalk chalk, does not hear it.

"I'm pretty sure Mom went into labor again. Why else would Daddy make us leave, instead of letting us wait in the hallway for a little bit, and then go back into her room?"

"Don't say that, Elijah!" Emma shouts, before going quiet because that made Gabe look up at her. "You don't know that! Mom was just upset, okay, that's all. She was upset and Daddy didn't want us to see it. I mean, you talked about Lexie. Why _wouldn't_ she be upset about that?!"

I sigh. I know what she is doing. She is trying to pick a fight because she is worried, and this is what she does during those times.

Well, it may work with Caleb, and it may even work with Gabe, but I am smart enough to know when she is worried, versus when she is actually trying to fight, and this is one of those times that the first applies to.

"EJ," I say the name that not many use with her – her initials for "Emma-Jo". "I know you don't want to believe." I speak softly, gently. "But, the chances that Mom's contractions would have stopped for very much longer is next to none."

I've read a lot about this, and spoke to the doctors, at least, the ones that actually wanted to have conversation about this kind of stuff with a 10-year-old.

"The fact that Mom was able to keep the third baby in her womb for a _whole week longer_ is amazing. How many people do you know that have had twins, triplets, or more, and the babies were born _more than_ a few hours apart?"

"Even you and Cal, you guys are only 6 minutes apart. And Roz and Gabe, they are only 20 minutes apart. But the triplets? Mom had two babies on two different days, 10 minutes apart, and now the other baby will be here _seven days later_."

"That is astonishing. I spoke to the doctors, Em! They said never in their entire time as a Pediatric Doctor or Surgeon, have they seen something like this."

I look at my big brother. I see the tears in his eyes because he knows, he understands.

Mom is having our other baby sibling. 8 weeks early. 2 months too soon.

"You're wrong," Emma tells me, but there is no mean tone to her voice. Instead, it cracks with tears like I know Cal's would, if he were to speak right now.

"I'm not. And you know it. I wish I were wrong. I wish I could be naïve and believe that Mom was just upset. I wish I could promise you four, without a doubt, that Mom was going to be able to go another week without having this baby."

I pause. I look around at my older and younger siblings. Roz, sometime during this, had come outside, and she and Gabe are most definitely listening now.

"I wish I could promise that, but I can't. And I am so sorry."

Roz breaks then.

Because while she is six, she is smart as hell, and she knows.

The baby might die and there is not a damned thing we can do about it.

"I don't want Mommy to have the baby right now!" She sobs as Caleb goes over and picks her up. Mom and Dad tell him not to, that she is too big, but screw that.

Our sister needs comforting right now.

"I know, sweetheart," Caleb shushes her gently. People always say he is in his own little world and doesn't understand anything. But they are wrong. He understands so much. "I know. It's going to be okay, Roe, it's going to be all right."

Emma is hugging Gabriel and I go over to Caleb and Roz. I kiss my little sister's cheek and I tell her all the things that we are going to do with our new brother, sister, and the new baby.

I tell them we can pray. We don't go to church, but Mom and Dad still raised us to pray to God if we feel we need to.

So, we do. We bow our heads and close our eyes and we ask God to please look over our new baby sister or brother. To please make sure they live and are healthy.

And we sit there.

Quietly. Silently.

And we wait.

For dad to call.

To tell us we have another new sister, or another new brother, or worse…

That the baby didn't make it.

We hope, we wait, and we pray.

Because what else is there to do?

* * *

**There it is. Figured I needed to do a little with the older kids so you could get to know them a bit better. The kids are struggling and are worried for their baby siblings.**

**Also, as shown, Sandy's mom is very… strict. She believes in corporal punishment (smacking, spanking, etc.), and tries to implement that into the kids' lives. Sandy agrees with it most of the time while Michael has insisted on a gentler approach to parenting.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! I would love to know what you are all thinking so far, any questions you have or anything you would like to discuss, etc. I really need to know if you like/don't liking this story, so I know whether to change up any chapters, right now early on.**

**Next up will be the third Jareau baby's birth, along with lots of information regarding his/her being born early and the complications that arise with that. JJ and her Triplet siblings get their names soon, as well. :D**


	6. The Birth (July 4th, 1978)

**Chapter ****_**5 **– The Birth_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for premature birth**

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_**Reply to reviews: (chapter 5)**_

**Bohogal1998: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you are enjoying the story!**

**Heywaszoietsals: Thank you for the review. Yes, this is certainly is a scary time for the kids. Lots of medical drama and things they just do not understand yet. But this is a slightly happier chapter, which leads to more happy chapters. Hope you enjoy!**

**Thank you to those that reviewed. Shoutout to _Hetwaszoietsals_ and _Bohogal1998_ for reviewing each chapter. Also, welcome to my new follower _Hetwaszoietsals_ and favoriters _RAD092515_ and _emmelty52._**

**Don't forget to follow this story. I have chapters prewritten, so updates come several times a month!**

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**Notes: ****The moment we have all waited for! Baby Jareau #3 is born. We learn the gender and it won't be long before names are picked!**

**Important - please read! I have spent a _very_ long time researching everything about the NICU and caring for premature babies. I have no medical knowledge whatsoever/doctor family members, so all this info came from the internet, and was explained to the best of my ability.**

**However****, any questions you have, please leave in a review or PM, and I will be happy to try and explain it better to you. **

**Here we go! :)**

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_Previously on Chronicles…_

_The sound of a door opening grabs Michael's attention._

_His eyes snap open, and he looks at the doctor. The one that told him 1 week ago that Sandy's contractions had suddenly stopped, but they could deliver the third baby through C-Section. The doctor who then told him they would watch Sandy, monitor her, to make sure her contractions held off as long as possible._

_But as he looks at the doctor, the one that gave him hope 1 week ago…_

_He knows it's going to be anything but this time._

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Jareau," Doctor Hamilton says gravely. "But I am afraid your wife's contractions have started up again, and there is no waiting this time."_

* * *

**_*St. Hope Hospital – Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - (back to before the kids arrive home) _**_**– 11:30 a.m**_**_.*_**

Michael nods as he stands.

He takes a deep breath, centering himself, preparing to go in there and be with his wife.

Dr. Hamilton opens the door, steps aside for Michael to enter, before following.

"Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Jareau, I know it is not ideal, but your next baby is about to make his or her entrance. On the next contraction, Sandy, I need you to give me a big push, alright?"

Sandy looks at Michael and he knows she is thinking the same thing.

_It's too early_.

"I know, baby," He whispers. "But, he or she has had an extra week to grow. You were able to keep them inside for 7 more days, and that is wonderful, but I need you to push for the doctor, ok? Come on, baby, push."

And she does.

She pushes, she curses, screams, says she is too tired, she can't do it, the baby needs to stay longer, they won't be healthy.

"I can't do it, Dr. Hamilton, please, please, can't you stop my contractions? They need to stay longer, they're too early, god, please just do something to make the contractions stop!"

"I'm sorry, Sandy," The doctor's tone, though gentle and soft and reassuring, makes Sandy want to slap him in the face. He is a fucking doctor; shouldn't he be able to _stop_ the contractions?

"I need you to push, alright? Come on, Sandy, you can do it."

Finally, with Michael coaxing her, and the doctor still speaking gently, and the nurses wiping her face with a cool washcloth, Sandy is able to do it. It's takes not even a full 3 minutes, but finally, Michael and Sandy hear those words.

"And she's out. Congratulations, Mom and Dad, you have a beautiful baby girl!"

Michael cuts the cord and looks upon his new baby daughter. Fuzzy dark hair, beautifully grey eyes, and…

Then, he realizes something is terribly wrong.

It is small, but still quite noticeable. Where there should obviously be skin connecting the part between her mouth and nose, there is a line that is fleshy and a little bloody and just looks so awful.

"Oh, my," Dr. Hamilton lets out accidently. "We will have to transfer her to Children's Hospital right away, for further observation and such. You can go with her, if you wish, and the doctors there will be able to answer any questions you may have."

"Is–… Is she going to be ok? What's wrong with her?" Michael asks, still in awe and disbelief. He has never seen anything like it, not even at the hospital where he works. He mentally slaps himself, though, as he hears the words come out of his mouth.

There is nothing _wrong_ with her. Sure, the skin between her lip and nose may not have formed correctly, but she is still his daughter, she is still beautiful, and he will still love her.

"I don't want to give any false hope, Michael. We need to transport her; would you like to go also?"

Dr. Hamilton hands off the newborn to a nurse who wipes her of the blood and after birth and dresses her.

"I want to see my baby!" Sandy suddenly snaps, noticing the nurse who was about to leave the room with her newborn daughter.

"Yes, of course, but only for a moment. We really should be getting her transferred." The nurse brings the newborn back over. Michael wants to say something, anything to prepare his wife for what she is about to see.

But, as the nurse hands Sandra the bundle of pink blanket, it seems, someone should have prepared _him_ for what _she_ is about to _say_…

"Oh, my God! What's wrong with her?!" Sandy goes from just-about-to coo at her new baby, to recoiling in disgust and holding the infant back out for the nurse to take.

"Get that thing away from me! I don't know what is wrong with her, but no child of mine should look at _that_!"

His heart stops. He is sure his face matches the pure shock on the nurse's and Dr. Hamilton's faces.

_Get that thing away from me!_

He can't believe she had said that! Sure, she may be post-labor, and stressed and in shock and everything.

But come on! Calling your child a _thing_, just because she has something wrong with the skin between her lip and nose did not grow together properly? Just because she looks differently than their other 8 children?

"Mr. Jareau," Dr. Hamilton recovers quicker than he does. What a blessing. He focuses again and tells Dr. Hamilton that he would like to go with is daughter to the Children's Hospital. He leaves the room, not saying a word to his wife.

He runs down the hallway and watches at the nurses prepare his daughter to be transferred. He gets a gown and gloves and follows them to the roof of the hospital where the helicopter is.

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – 12:00 p.m.*_**

The next several hours are a whirlwind of events. It starts as soon as Michael, his daughter, and the doctors arrive at the Children's Hospital 30 minutes away, by the Angel Flight helicopter, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The driving time would be about nine times this length.

This means Michael will have to commute nearly 5 hours to see his babies every day, but right now, that is the least of his worries. He just wants to make sure that he will _actually have_ three babies to come and visit.

Once at the Hospital, they are immediately take her to the NICU, which is the Neonatal, a baby and child version of the Intensive Care Unit. This is where Baby Girl Jareau #1 and Baby Boy Jareau have been since they arrived in the world 9 weeks premature last week.

Baby Girl Jareau #2 is set up in an incubator. She has tubes and stickers and monitors and everything else hooked up to her.

Michael knows what it all is. He was here, just a week ago, watching his other daughter and son be hooked up.

First the doctors weigh Baby Girl Jareau #2. One of the nurses comes outside the NICU to tell him _13 ½ inches and 1.9 pounds_.

That is 2 inches shorter than both Baby Girl Jareau's triplet sister and brother, but also 4 ounces more than them. She is so tiny, and Michael has to remind himself to _breathe_. She is _okay_. She is _alive_. She is going to be _just fine_.

First, the doctors get scans – Ultrasounds, MRI, CT, and X-rays. This is so they can tell if she has a brain bleed or bleeding anywhere else – she has none, thank god.

They look at her bones and organs; given the circumstances, – 8 weeks premature – everything is as it's are supposed to be.

The doctors examine her brain stem and spinal cord with the MRI. Everything seems to intact, where it should be, proper size for how old she is, etc.

Michael is given the good news – all scans came back clear. That is step 1 in ensuring his baby girl is going to live.

Next, Baby Girl Jareau #2 is put in an incubator. This is the bed that infants sleep or lay in. It will have a cover, making it a boxed in bed, soon, however, right now, it needed to be open for the doctors to place all the necessary equipment on her.

It will also have a special light, called an _Isolette_, which will keep the baby warm, until she is able to regulate her body temperature on her own.

They do the heart monitor first. Michael watches with trepidation as his baby is hooked up to the thing that will tell the doctors, nurses, NICU staff, and him whether his daughter's heart is beating. This is called a _Heart or Cardiorespiratory monitor_.

He feels a weight lifted off his shoulders as they get it hooked up and he can faintly hear the _beep… beep… beep_ of the machine. She's breathing, that is wonderful.

Next is the most important machine, and something that only his son needed, – an Endotracheal tube (ET) or, a tube that is placed in the baby's mouth or nose (in his son's case, the tube were placed in his nose). This is like a breathing tube. It is connected to a mechanical ventilator.

His daughter, Baby Girl Jareau #1, did not need this tube as, regardless of being a 9-week preemie, she could breathe on her own. His son did need one, and Michael was worried at first when he did not hear his son cry at all. He thought even preemies cried every once in a while.

But he was reassured when the doctor told him that babies with the ET cannot cry as the tube goes down into their trachea (windpipe) and this, of course, would prevent them from making any sounds.

Michael sees the good news about the ET this time, as well. _Peanut_ does not need one. That means, she is able to breathe on her own well enough that the doctors do not feel the need to insert one into her nose or mouth. Michael breathes a sigh of relief at that.

After this is determined, Baby Girl Jareau #2 gets the next machine hooked up to her. This one is the mechanical ventilator that the ET is connected to. It is specifically what will pump oxygen into her body.

Next, they do the blood pressure and temperature monitors. Since Baby Girl Jareau #2 is so tiny, this is done by inserting a catheter into one of her veins, just one of the thousands of pokes, prodding, and needles this child will endure over the next several years.

A nurse, later to be introduced as "Nurse Jo", attaches a small, sticky circle (adhesive patch) to the infant's leg. This will be monitoring her temperature.

"Okay, baby girl," Jo whispers. "Oh, I know. You don't know what's going on. I know what you're thinking, _I left my mommy's nice, warm belly for this place? _But everything will be ok. We are just about done."

This nurse, Nurse Jo, attaches a little light to the newborn's hand. She is so tiny that they are unable to just simply tape it to a toe or finger. This is a very important part of all the monitors. It will measure the oxygen in Baby Girl Jareau #2's blood.

And that isn't even the half of it. More monitors, more pokes, more, more, more.

The doctors are almost finished, and Michael knows this because he had watched the nurses and NICU staff and the doctor assigned to his Sandy's other daughter and son, do these things to the first two babies.

A Transcutaneous oxygen/carbon dioxide monitor is the last one. Once again, a small sticky circle is used. Only, because this sticky pad warms the skin, it will have to be moved around often, in order not to burn the newborn's skin. This will measure the amount of oxygen and carbon dioxide in her skin.

And that is, officially, the last part in preparing Baby Girl Jareau #2 for her NICU stay. She is placed next to her triplet siblings, who have no names just yet, and are called Baby Girl Jareau #1 and Baby Boy Jareau.

* * *

**_*Approximately 3 hours later – 3:15 p.m.*_**

Finally, after what seems like hours and hours, but is really only a total of about 3, Michael hears those words every parent of a NICU patient wants – _needs _– to hear:

"You can come in and see your daughter now."

Michael nods. He goes to wash his hands. Is gowned up, wearing gloves and a facemask. And then, then he gets to go inside and say hello to his new baby girl.

He can only touch her tiny, fragile arm through the hole of the incubator. He gazes at this teeny-tiny little thing who is his little girl and he feels like she will become his whole world.

"Hi, my Sweet Girl," He whispers, not knowing if she has her eyes closed because she is asleep, or because she just can't open then just yet. "I think I will call you, _Peanut_, because you are small like a peanut. You are going to be Daddy's Little Peanut."

"I am going to protect from every bad thing that could happen. And I promise I will never let anyone ever hurt you. You know, you have a sissy and bubba who were born a week before you. I guess you just didn't want to be left out, huh? So, you decided today would be the day you would make your appearance."

"You have so many brothers and sisters who are going to love you. And your Mommy, she may not have had a good first impression reaction, but I have no doubt that she will love you."

_He hopes Sandy will come to love her daughter_, is what he actually means. Peanut's lip being messed up, not being fully formed, is quite alarming at first. And he can understand, – although he, in no way, condones it, – Sandy's first reaction to her.

But she is so beautiful. She has fuzzy dark blonde hair, and he bets she will have blueish-grey eyes like everyone else, which will, most likely, darken to brown as she grows older.

He wonders if her eyes will stay blue, like Lexie's did. Or if they will darken to green or brown, as all of her other siblings' eye colors have done.

_Oh, Lexie_. In all the commotion, he forgot what today is – July 4, 1978. Exactly 1 year since his three-year-old daughter was kidnapped from the park.

"Your lip being messed is going to be ok," Michael tells his Little Peanut. "I will speak to the doctors about it, and we will see if we can make it all better. And you know what? You have a big sissy, – her name is Lexie, – who is watching over you."

He knows, in his heart, that Lexie and Kevin are probably dead by now, and their bodies have just yet to be discovered.

"You even have a big brother, his name is Jeremiah. And another big sister, named Stephanie. And a big cousin, whose name is Kevin. You even have an Auntie, my little sister. You see, you have all these Angels watching over you. And I know you are going to be just fine."

"I know you will grow into a beautiful, kind, wonderfully smart young woman. You will do something amazing, like play soccer, or be in Law Enforcement."

"I just know it. And you are going to do so much good in this world. You will find a man, or a woman, if you so wish, I know people do not accept those kinds of things, but if you find yourself attracted to another girl, just know that Daddy will love you all the same."

"You will get married, and you will have kids, who I just _know_ you will raise to be wonderful people. Because I know, _you_ will be a wonderful person. And I love you so, so much, _Peanut_."

After a few more moments, Michael switches beds, and goes to his other daughter and son's incubators. He has given them nicknames as well. Baby Girl Jareau #1 is _Ladybug_, and Baby Boy Jareau is _Mister Man_.

"Hello, my perfect little babies," He greets them. "How is Daddy's_ Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_ doing today? Are you two being good for the doctors and nurses?" He pauses, just as he would if the babies could actually respond, either by words or by babbles.

"Oh, you have been? Well, that is great. You two are getting big and strong, huh? You know, Mommy couldn't come see you last week, because your other sissy still needed to grow a little bit, but now that she is here, Mommy can come and visit. It will still be a little bit before your big sissies and big brothers can come visit."

"You see, a couple of them have had coughs and couple are too young, which means no visiting. But they know you, oh, how they know and love you three already. They talk about all the fun things they are going to teach you, the games you can play, and the movies you can watch."

"They are going to love you all so much. _I_ love you so much. And there is not a thing I would not do for each one of you."

* * *

**And there we have it! All the babies have been born, 1 week a part. To clear up any confusion, Baby Girl Jareau #1 (****_Ladybug_****) was born at 11:57 p.m. on June 26****th****. Her triplet brother, Baby Boy Jareau (****_Mister Man_****) followed ten minutes later, at 12:07 a.m. on June 27.**

**Then, Baby Girl Jareau #2 (Peanut) was born 1 week later, today, on July 4, 1978, which is also the anniversary of Lexie's ****and Kevin's disappearance. That will set up some complications for how well Sandy is able to bond with ****_Peanut_****, in the future.**

**I did not give specific names. But I feel that certain things Michael said will let you be able to figure out who this last baby was. The names will be revealed soon. ;)**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**Next up: Michael speaks to the doctor about ****_Peanut's_**** lip. He returns home with Sandy. He then brings some of the older kids to visit the Triplets!**


	7. The Questions & The Answers (7-4-1978)

**_Chapter 6 – Questions & Answers_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the rights to the hospital, or any character associated with CM. I do own JJ's siblings, doctor names, and all other OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for medical speak and talk of possible surgeries, etc.**

* * *

_**Reply to reviews: (chapter 5)**_

**Bohogal1998****: Thank you for the review! The Triplets are to be named in chapter 8, so you will find out then if _Peanut_ is JJ or not. ;) And Sandy does have some problems that need to be addressed before she can be blamed fully for negative attitude.**

**Hetwaszoietsals: Thanks! :) Sandy's behavior/attitude is addressed in #11. I don't want her to be _just_ an b**ch, ya'know? Like, yes, she is but also, there are some things that have happened in the past that have led her to this behavior. :/**

**Thank you to those who are reading! I hope you all are enjoying it. I am having so much writing it. I honestly can't wait to get the rest of the chapters up! Also, don't forget to review, follow, and/or favorite, as I have several chapters prewritten, which means multiple updates a month. :)**

**It is the eighth of February right now, which means this story is officially 1 month old! I will update each month on the eighth, unless I am unable to.**

* * *

**Reminders: ****_Ladybug_**** is Baby Jareau Girl #1; she is now 1 week old. ****_Mister Man_**** is Baby Boy Jareau; he is also 1 week old. ****_Peanut_**** is Baby Girl Jareau #2; she is now 1 day old.**

**Notes: This one is super long, the longest chapter yet! Lots of medical jargon again along with information regarding the Triplets. It is very detailed and hopefully not too confusing. **

**Here we go! :)**

* * *

_**Tuesday, July 4**__**th**__**, 1978  
East Allegheny, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania**_

* * *

**_*Jareau Residence – 8:30 p.m.*_**

After spending an hour with his three new babies, Michael goes home. Well, first, he goes to the hospital to get Sandy, only to discover that she called her mother and Regina had brought her home.

It is now past 4 in the afternoon, and Michael knows he should probably get home. He is sure that Emma, as well as, several of the other kids, are anxious to hear about the three babies. About whether that have another brother or another sister, and, well… about whether the third baby survived her birth.

He really does not want to leave. He doesn't want to walk out here, only for it to be the last time he gets to speak to one of his babies. Michael promises _Ladybug_, _Mister Man_, and _Peanut_ that he will be back soon. He is going to go home to see their mommy and big sisters and brothers.

It takes him a solid five hours, the sun is down, the moon shining bright in the sky, by the time he arrives home. It about 8:30, give or take a few minutes. And as soon as he walks in the door, Michael knows something is wrong.

Not only did his other five children not run to greet him outside, there was also no greeting once he stepped inside the house.

He thought at least Gabriel and Emma would be there, asking about the babies, wanting to know if this newest baby girl had survived being born 8 weeks early.

He understands why there was no greeting once he gets in the kitchen and finds a note on the fridge, written in Roslyn's messy, 6-year-old handwriting.

_Daddy,__  
__We went to Debbie's house (Eli's friend). Mee-Mee slapped Gabriel in the face.  
He was really upset. We could not stay at home anymore. We called Nana and  
Sabba. We will probably be at their house. Please call us when you get home.__  
__Love Emma, Cal, Eli, Roz, + Gabe_

He feels many emotions all at once.

On instinct, he is relieved that the kids are safe, because, while it is normal for a couple not to be home, it was very concerning to have all five kids gone at the same time.

Second, is anger.

_Mee-Mee slapped Gabriel in the face_.

God, he _should have_ _known_ letting Regina come home with the kids was a bad idea. He should have called his parents and had them waiting at his house for the kids when they arrived home.

Especially with how Gabriel was being this morning, – crying over every little thing, – and Emma, who was extra worried and therefore being what could be considered "disrespectful" in her actions and words.

He rounds on his wife and mother-in-law, who are sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and acting as if their 5 children are not, not home.

"Sandra!" He snaps, walking over to his wife.

"Yes?" Sandy blinks up at him.

He falters.

How can she be so… indifferent? She just spent a week in the hospital because she went into premature labor last week. She has three babies in the NICU, and she is acting as if none of that has happened.

"What is the matter with you?" He then rounds on his mother-in-law. "You slapped Gabriel in the face!?"

"What!?"

_Finally_, some hint of a response other than disinterest from his wife.

She stands up, looming over her mother, sharing in her husband's anger, wondering what the hell possessed this woman to physically harm her child.

Any other time, and he would clue her into how hypocritical that sounds, seeing as there are numerous times she has slapped Caleb, or "spanked" Emma and Gabriel with wooden spoon, or even grabbed Roz up by the arm, so tightly that she was crying in pain, as well as fear.

"You slapped my child in the face." Michael is trying so hard to keep his temper in check.

He has three fucking newborns in the NICU, – who may or may not make it long enough to come home, – and the last thing he needs to have to worry about is whether or not his other five children are being taken care of.

"I want you out of my house." Regina had stayed quiet, waiting for a second in between her daughter's glaring, and her son-in-law's harsh words, to say anything.

Probably to admonish them about their "horrible" parenting skills, and how their children need to be "taught proper respectfulness" towards their elders.

And now, she opens her mouth to say something, to snap back at him that he is not the boss of her, to say that he needs to respect her, as if she has any control over what he does or say.

However, Michael knows what is coming; he has dealt with it for over twelve years, although, if you really want to know, it has been 15 years, since he and Sandy were expecting their very first child, Jeremiah, back in 1963.

So, he holds up a hand, and he cuts Regina off, and, although he tries not to make this a habit, he unleashes all of his frustration and anger and fears and resentment towards his mother-in-law.

"No! I want you out of my house! Sandy and I have three, – _three, Regina_, – babies in the hospital. I am not going to let you come here, terrorizing our other children. I am done."

"I should have done this a long time ago, – and most certainly should have this morning when I caught you abusing Emma. You are no longer welcome here."

"You are not to come here unless you have been specifically invited. No more birthdays, no more holidays. For now on, you are to call, each and every time you need a visit. The kids will, – and _only if_ they want to, – visit on our terms, on _their_ terms, when it is convenient for them, and us."

"There will be no more unexpected visits from you. There will be no more barging in, on our family time, on our time off, our time to rest and spend time with each. There will be no more demanding that we cater to you."

He pauses and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, because he just realized he had begun yelling, quietly loudly, too, and so he calms himself enough to say, in a quiet, even tone of voice,

"No more, Regina. Get out. Get out right now, or so help me God, you will regret it."

Regina huffs and she puffs, and she rolls her eyes. She stands up and grabs her purse and jacket, and storms out of the house without another word to neither Sandy nor Michael.

* * *

**_*Later – 9 p.m.*_**

It takes a while to calm down. To be able to _breathe_ and just… _calm down_.

Michael first gives Sandy a rundown of everything that happened with the babies when he went to the Children's Hospital, starting with _Peanut_ and how she is all hooked up the machines and such, and that _Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_ are doing ok also.

He then decides to bring up the obvious elephant in the room – _Peanut_ and her lip being messed up.

"Sandy, I am going to go get the kids, we can tell them about what is going on. Visiting hours will be long over with by the time we arrive in Philly, but tomorrow, at about 9 or so in the morning, I am going to bring the kids with me to the Hospital."

He waits but, gets no response.

"You can come with me, if you would like. I will only bring Cal, maybe Elijah with me. There was a sign outside the NICU that kids are allowed in as long as they are over 10 years, free of illnesses, and accompanied by an adult."

Sitting down, Michael sighs because he is about to mention something he is unsure of how Sandy will react to.

"Sandy, Honey, I am going to bring Cal and Eli with me, since Emma is not feeling well, and Roz and Gabe will be too young. But I need to know if you would like to come with us. I am going to be speaking to the doctor about… well, about our daughter's lip. You remember, don't you?"

No answer.

He continues on regardless,

"I am hoping to find out what is wrong with her lip, why it looks the way it does, and what we can do to maybe, I don't know, fix it. So, would you like to come with us?"

As he feared, however, Sandy is shaking her head, and turning away, and opening the fridge, taking out a variety of ingredients for some kind of meal.

"I think I need to stay home, make sure everything is going well here. I need to catch up on the laundry and get dinner made."

Michael shakes his head; he thinks maybe Sandy does not want to go see the babies be because they are so small, and maybe she is worried about touching them, hurting them accidently.

So, he goes over to her, and he wraps his arms around her stomach from behind, and he kisses her forehead.

"Sweetheart, you just spent a week in the hospital, giving birth, _naturally_, to three babies. You can take some time off, ya'know. You can sit and rest and let me take care some of the chores. Let my mom and dad help out, that's what grandparents are for, ya'know?"

"And," He pauses, but only for a moment. He is so sure of that being the reason she does not want to go, and if it is, he does not want her to worry about that. "You don't have to worry about hurting the babies. You can touch them, in fact, the doctors encourage it."

Silence…

"You can touch their little arms and speak to them, I'm sure they will love to hear your beautiful voice." He tries again, hoping to elicit some sort of response.

"That is not the reason why, Michael," Sandy speaks. "I just do not want to see that thing."

His heart sinks but he does not want to judge. It has to be the post-birth hormones.

Right?

"That… That _thing_," She continues, his heart hurting at her words. "Is _not_ my child. No child of mine is going to look like that. I don't know what is wrong with it, but I want nothing to do with it."

It's the hormones he reminds himself.

The hormones…

The hormones…

The hormones…

She does not know what she is saying. Today is a very rough day for her. Today is the one-year anniversary of their daughter, Lexie, disappearing.

That coupled with giving birth to three babies, two 9 weeks early, and one, 8 weeks early, is overwhelming her.

And _that_ coupled with something being wrong with _Peanut's_ lip is just too much.

Too much, too much, too much.

So, he says nothing. He kisses her forehead again. He goes upstairs to change into a newer outfit, to take a quick shower. He is out of the house in less than half an hour.

* * *

**_*Cynthia Jareau's house _****– 9:45 p.m.****_*_**

Michael goes to his sister's house. Earlier, when he called his mom and dad, they informed him that they are at Michael's little sister's house. Cynthia Jareau is 20 years old, and lives in an off-campus apartment while she and her boyfriend, Kurt Johnson attend college.

Karen and Kenneth were in Pittsburg visiting Cyndie and decided to just stay there because they were unsure when Michael would be home.

After Cyndie lets him into the apartment, Michael is greeted by five very eager little girls and boys. He first checks on Gabriel, to make sure he is ok after being slapped by his grandmother.

He is ok now, and Michael is thankful for that. Next, he speaks to Karen and Kenneth. He gives them a rundown of what is going on with the triplets.

Yes, _Peanut_ was born 8 weeks early, but she is doing ok right now. He mentions her lip, but says he is going to go speak to the doctors and see what can be done about it.

He reassures Gabriel that Mommy and all three babies are ok. He tells them that they have two new sisters along with a brother now.

"Wow! Really?" Roslyn is thrilled. So, so happy. Because now, she has _two_ sisters to play tea party with and to look at the stars and play hide-'n-go seek with.

Gabriel, Elijah, and Caleb are happy to have another sister as well. But they are also happy about _Mister Man_. Caleb promises that he will protect both little girls from any bad guys while Gabriel says he is going to teach _Mister Man_ how to play Cops & Robbers.

Emma is absolutely thrilled that all three babies are as healthy as they can be. That her mom is ok, that the newest baby survived being born so early.

Michael tells them that visiting hours are over at 9 p.m., which means they will be unable to see their news sisters and brother tonight. Also, he has to explain to Emma, Roslyn, and Gabriel that they will be unable to come – Roz & Gabe because of their age, and Emma will not be allowed for a couple more weeks when her cough will be gone.

The preteen is _not_ happy about this. She almost throws a fit about it, but Michael explains, gently but firmly, that if she were to come, and give the babies her cough, it would turn into something much worse for them, and possible kill them.

It terrifies her, and his heart aches at the look in her eyes, that worry, that fear.

"Come here, Jo-Jo," He wraps her in a hug and makes _sure_ she knows that as soon as her cough has cleared up, she can visit the babies.

Michael sits down then, for about an hour or so, and with his parents' help, he makes up a list of questions to ask about _Peanut_, her lip, what can be done about it, etc.

Being a doctor really does help, along with Karen and Ken giving questions that he should ask as a "parent" and not as a "doctor". Cyndie and Kurt entertain the kids while they are doing this.

He has a good list by the end of the hour, about 25 questions, variations of the same one, and just some about the future, for _Peanut_. For _Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_, the list are about 10 questions long, but he knows what he wants to ask for them already.

It is decided that they will go back to Philly tonight, to Karen and Kenneth's house. It will be after midnight when they arrive, but Michael would like to be there so they can go to the Hospital to see the Triplets first thing tomorrow morning. Elijah and Caleb will be coming with them, as well.

"Michael," Cyndie calls out. "They are more than welcome to stay here." She is speaking about Roslyn and Gabriel, plus Emma, who may not want to go home. And really, Cynthia does not _want _them to either, especially after hearing what Sandy's mother did to her nephew.

"Kids, what do you say? Do you want Nana, Sabba, and I to drop you back at home, or do you want to stay with Auntie Cyndie?"

"Daddy? Mee-Mee is-isn't dere… is see?"

Michael's heart drops as he hears the slight fear in his son's voice. No child should be _afraid_ of their family members, and they most certainly should _never_ be afraid of their fucking _grandmother_.

Yet, here they are. He was slapped and now…

Now he _is_ worried.

And, hearing this, Cynthia's boyfriend speaks up.

"You know what? I have an assignment due for class. We have to build something, completely on own, from making our own plans, to using all the right tools…"

Kurt comes closer, bending down in front of Gabriel. "And I think… you might be _just the person_ to help with all of that? What do you say? Em and Roz can do medi-pedis with Auntie Cyndie while you and I do some guys stuff. How's that?"

Gabriel lights up. He _loves_ building things. It is the one he absolutely excels at. He turns to Michael, hopeful and pleading.

"If it is no trouble for you," Michael tells him but gets waved off and reassured that it is fine. "Well, alright, then. Em, Gabey, Roz, come here, please." He instructs them to behave for their Aunt and Uncle, and that he will be home sometime tomorrow.

With one last goodnight kiss and hug for the three kids, Michael leaves with Caleb and Eli. He follows behind his mom and dad as they make their way back to Philadelphia.

They pull into Karen and Kenneth's driveway at well after 3 in the morning, and immediately head to sperate bedrooms for some sleep.

* * *

**_Next day - July 5th, 1978_**

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – 9:45 a.m.*_**

"Now remember, you two," Michael says as he takes his oldest sons inside and to the elevator. His parents stayed home with their youngest children, Martha, 18, and Kelley-Elizabeth, 14, while Michael came to the Hospital with Elijah and Caleb.

"_Ladybug_, _Mister Man_, and _Peanut_ are going to be hooked up to a lot of machines. There will be wires and monitors and it will look scary at first."

"I know, Dad," Elijah tells him. "The monitors are there to make sure they are ok. There will be heart monitors and ones for their oxygen. And to make sure their temperatures and blood pressures are where they are supposed to be."

Caleb, for his part, is just quiet. He is trying not to get overwhelmed by everything that is happening, because now, here at the hospital, it is real. It is not something he just thinks about anymore.

The lights are little too bright, but he thinks if he does not look directly at them, and focuses on the conversations, the feel of his father's hand in his, what the babies look like, the pictures on the walls, then maybe the lights will not be too much for him.

And then there are the sounds and the smells. Thank God, Michael reminded him to get his headphones, specially made to block out the excess noise. He is in the most comfortable clothes he owns, no tags, soft, worn out, and seamless.

He really hopes everything with his body will be ok today. Caleb knows that sometimes he can have, what his mother calls, temper tantrums, but really it is not his fault. He just gets overwhelmed by his senses.

Lights become too bright, the sounds seem as if they are coming through a megaphone, and worst of all, the worst is when his clothes feel like sandpaper on his skin.

So, when this happens, he yells, he hits himself, he screams, he makes a scene, but honestly, he wouldn't know this if his siblings and mother didn't tell him all the time, because afterwards, he comes to, and eventually feels better, and he is able to get away from the megaphone-sounds and the sandpaper-clothes and the flashlight-in-the-eyes lights.

Now, he hopes none of this will happen. He does not want to ruin this trip for his brother. And he does not want his Daddy to be upset with him.

Even though Michael tells him he understands, Caleb still feels as though he is annoyed with him and wishes he would be more like his sister or brothers, like his mother tells him so often.

They make their way to NICU. Eli and Caleb have to wash their hands thoroughly and put gowns, face masks, and gloves on.

Then, they are spoken to about what to do or not to do – touch the babies gently, but don't grab at them. Be cautious of the wires, do not yank at them, pull them, and etc.

The moment the two boys step into the NICU, they can feel the atmosphere change.

Everything is quiet, except for random beeps from all the heart monitors. There are hushed whispers all around the room – parents whispering to their babies, nurses murmuring as they change diapers or rock the babies who have no visitors, older kids talking to their little siblings.

Elijah is the more confident one, and he recovers first. He walks over to the beds that have _Jareau_ written on the little cards attached to the incubators.

"Oh, my god," His eyes widen. He knew the babies would be small, but God, he was _not_ prepared for _this_.

"They're so small." Tears fill his eyes, and he reaches out his hand towards _Ladybug's_ bed, only to snatch it back, suddenly unable to think anything other than _if I touch her, then I will hurt her_.

Of course, Nurse Jo is here, a kind, middle-aged woman who smiles at him.

"You're ok," She says. "Is this your little sister?"

He nods, finding his voice. "Yes, ma'am. These three are my sisters and brother. I also have two sets of twins as sisters and brothers. I have a lot of siblings, but I love all of them."

As he becomes more relaxed, he speaks more and begins telling Nurse Jo their names and ages and everything that a 10-year-old might want to say.

Nurse Jo smiles also, because now she realizes why the name Jareau sounded familiar, why Michael looked familiar.

6 years ago, she was the nurse who was working the Baby Nursery of Pittsburgh Hospital, and took care of this little boy's sister and brother, Roslyn and Gabriel. Then she transferred here, to Philly, and, by some weird coincidence, she is taking care of _three more_ Jareau babies.

"You seem like a very good big brother, Elijah." She tells him. "And don't worry, you can touch your babies, just be gentle, okay?"

* * *

**_*Later – 10:30 a.m.*_**

After letting the boys look at and talk to the Triplets for a little bit, Michael gives them some money and sends them to get something from the vending machines and then go to the cafeteria to eat it.

And finally, _finally_, he sits down with the doctor and begins talking with Dr. Jacobs, who has been assigned as the lead doctor on _Ladybug_, _Mister Man_, and _Peanut's_ hospital stay.

"Hello, Mr. Jareau," Dr. Jacobs greets. "My name is Doctor David Jacobs, but you may call me David. I have been assigned to your daughters and son."

Michael nods, shakes his hand, and asks him to call him "Michael".

"Now, first thing's first, do your babies have names, or is that still something you are waiting on?"

"My wife and I have not really had time to think of names yet, however, I have given them nicknames. Baby Girl Jareau #1 is _Ladybug_, _Mister Man_ is Baby Boy Jareau, and lastly, the baby born today, is _Peanut_."

David nods in understanding. "Okay, well, then that shall be what we refer to each baby as, unless you have another preference?"

But Michael shakes his head, so the doctor continues.

"Alrighty, so, let's see here…" He flips through two of the charts, one for _Ladybug_ and one for _Mister Man_.

"I see here that _Ladybug_ is doing pretty well considering. Her temperature has stayed in the green, a nice 95°, which is not exactly the 98.6, but it is close enough that we do not have to worry. She seems to be maintaining it there pretty well, during the times that she is off the warming light."

"She is able to breathe on her own still, meaning she does not need the Endotracheal tube. She is taking her feedings pretty good also and has gained 4 ounces, and that is awesome given that she is only 1 week old. Honestly, Michael, we do not see that much progress this soon with 28-week preemies."

This makes him smile, and he is so happy that his daughter is strong enough to be able to do these things.

"_Ladybug's_ blood pressure, oxygen levels, and so on, are looking to be doing all right. She is getting the medicine she needs to be able to develop her lungs and make sure her brain develops the way it needs to. She does not seem to have picked any sicknesses, and that is a very important detail. Her body may not be strong enough to fight a cold, or something big like pneumonia, off just yet."

Dr. Jacobs discuses a few more details, like how long he thinks _Ladybug_ may need to stay in the NICU, or when she can go home.

He tells Michael, honestly, that if _Ladybug_ keeps up this good work, being able to maintain her temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen levels, gaining weight when she is feeding, etc., then she may be able to go home in as little as under 3 months.

She has to weigh 4 pounds and be able to maintain her temperature without the warming incubator at all, and also pass the "carseat test" before she can go home.

"Next is _Mister Man_. Now, it says here, that he is in this warming incubator because he is unable to keep his body temperature leveled in a normal, open baby bed. And right now, that is completely normal. It is what is to be expected of a 28-weeker, especially given his weight."

For some reason, hearing that gives Michael great relief. To know that it is _expected_.

"Now, for the time being, _Mister Man_ will be in this warming incubator. And since he has the breathing tube going through his nose, his formula and medicine are being administered through this feeding tube. It is called a _Gastrostomy tube_, or a "G-tube" as it is referred to most of the time."

Although he has this, _Mister Man_ is not gaining weight as he should, which means, right now, the time in this bed is not known. Right now, that is ok. At present, he is about as healthy as one would expect."

"However, if he is not gaining weight and upping his feeding doses in 1 more to about 2 weeks, then that is when we should be concerned. He needs to start gaining weight, even if it is just one ounce every couple of days. Hopefully, a few more days of the medicine, of his lungs and brain and body developing, then he will start gaining weight."

"As for his blood pressure and oxygen levels, that is what these machines are for. He needs help maintaining those and will probably need them for several more weeks or even more than a month. Again, it depends on when he begins gaining weight, as that will help his body be able to do these other things."

"As with _Ladybug_, these medicines will help his lungs and brain develop and in time, that will also help him be able to fight off sicknesses. For the time being, any siblings or adults who have a fever, couch, cold, or are otherwise not 100% healthy, then they will need to not visit, until they are cleared by a doctor."

"Like _Ladybug_, and maybe a little more so, _Mister Man_ is unable to fight off these sicknesses, and to get something as simple as a runny nose, cough, or sore throat will be very detrimental to his health. He may not be able to get through it."

Dr. Jacobs asks if he has any questions, so Michael goes over a few that his parents had, and that he wants to be able to tell Sandy. He gets a definite timeline of when the two babies may be able to come home.

For _Ladybug_, his daughter, that is anywhere between 1–3 months, if she keeps gaining weight, is able to handle getting sick, and maintains her temperature, BP, etc. while in a normal baby bed.

For _Mister Man_, his son, it honestly depends on if he begins gaining weight. Unfortunately, if he does not start gaining weight, and is able to handle increased doses of formula while feeding, then he may… well…

Michael and Sandy may lose a third child, along with Jeremiah and Stephanie, and will have to plan a second funeral.

* * *

_***10 minutes later***_

After several more questions for the first two babies, Michael and David move on to the third baby, _Peanut_.

"Now, let's move on to your second daughter, the baby I believe we are referring to as '_Peanut_'?" Dr. Jacobs checks, and Michael nods. "There are several things that need to be discussed here, so I am going to start with the same as _Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_, then we will move on to her lip, as I am sure you have many questions about it."

Michael nods to this because he sure does have _many_ questions about why _Peanut's_ lip was bloody and seems to not have developed properly.

"Now, first off is _Peanut's _vitals. As you know, _Peanut_ is having a very hard time keeping her temperature and blood pressure stable. However, as I said with _Mister Man_, this is normal."

Dr. Jacobs closes the chart after he gave a quick, but thorough, glance at the information pertaining to _Peanut_.

"Your daughter was born 8 weeks early, and it is expected that she have trouble with those things. We have her hooked up to monitors and we are helping her as much as we can with keeping her temperature and blood pressure stable."

"For the time being, _Peanut_ is to remain in the warming incubator for 24/7, as she needs it much more than her triplet sister and brother. We also have monitors on her breathing, oxygen levels, and so on. Thankfully, she did not need an ET, like _Mister Man_ did. She _is_ able to breathe on her own."

"We did not see any brain bleeds on the MRI or the CT scans, and that is wonderful. We are giving her the same medication as _Mister Man_ and _Ladybug_ to help her lungs, heart, and other vital organs develop to the appropriate size and function rate, as well."

"Do you have any questions so far, Michael?"

Michael swallows as he digests all of this. Because _God_, it is a lot to take in. It is… It is a lot to understand and process and just… _know_.

The best thing is that all three babies are alive right now, but he knows, _God how he knows_, as a father _and_ a doctor, himself, he knows that sooner or later, he may not be coming home with all three babies.

But…

He does not think too hard about that. He tries not to just…

He ignores the part of him that is wanting to crumple up like a scared little boy and just cry and beg the doctors to make it all better.

Michael sighs, he takes a deep breath, he centers himself, he turns off the "Doctor Jareau" part of him and goes full force into "Father of premature triplet infants" mode.

"I have no questions at… No, Dr. Jacobs. I have no questions at this time."

David nods and he then goes on to tell Michael the most concerning part so far of _Peanut_'s medical happenings.

"Now, primarily, I want to tell you about _Peanut's_ lip. It seems that your daughter, _Peanut_, has something called a _cleft lip_. This is when the upper lip does not form and close properly during a pregnancy. The result is a split or opening in the facial structures, between the nose, here, and the upper lip, here."

As David speaks, he motions to each part of _Peanut's_ lip or face. Michael listens intently. This is the first time he has ever come across such a thing.

Even though he is a doctor, and he has been up to the Pediatric's Floor many times throughout his time at the Hospital he works at in Pittsburgh, he still is unsure as to what the hell is going on here.

"Okay…" Michael just… He nods and he keeps nodding and he thinks to himself _how did we get here?_ _How did we go from a semi-normal pregnancy to having three babies born over 2 months early?_

"It can, and will, cause problems when she is feeding. A _cleft lip_ often prevents a baby from being to proper latch onto the nipple of a bottle. Now, there have not been many cases of this reported on, but we will try our very best to give your daughter the best care that she deserves."

He sighs once, giving a quick glance at a note inside _Peanut's_ chart. "I would like to inform you, Michael, that earlier, when _Peanut_ was being fed, she did have a hard time with forming a latch."

"This is why we want to give her a feeding tube. Again, this is called a _Gastrostomy tube_, or G-tube. It will be inserted through the abdominal wall straight into her stomach, just as we have done with _Mister Man_."

He motions to the area that the _G-tube_ will most likely be placed.

"This will allow formula and medicine to be directed straight to her belly and will allow her to be able to get the amount she needs without struggling to form a latch on the bottle nipple to do so."

"How soon can that be done?"

"As soon we are able to get the right equipment and tools to do so. It was not done earlier because, as I said, she did not need the breathing tube, and we were unsure if she would have trouble latching with a bottle nipple. But, as you know, with _Mister Man_, it was absolutely necessary, so his was put in as soon as we could do it."

Michael gives permission for it. He then asks the doctor to tell him more about _Peanut's_ _cleft lip_. David says he is going to tell him as much information as possible, and for Michael to stop him whenever he has a question or needs something to be clarified.

"First, we need to talk about the feeding problems. As I said, the _cleft lip_ makes it difficult for _Peanut_ to get a proper latch on a bottle nipple, therefore making it to where a feeding would take up to three-times as long, or where she would be basically swallowing air, instead formula."

"Now, once _Peanut_ is older, about 3–6 months, we can do a surgery to repair her lip. We will close the gap, by taking a skin-graft from a different part of her body, and placing it in this area."

"And this will close the gap between her nose and mouth, allowing her to get a proper latch, or, later on, be able to eat actual foods. For the time being, we will use the _G-tube_ to give her formula and medicine that she needs."

"Next is tooth development. Her _cleft lip_ is going to greatly affect how her teeth grow and come in. This is why we usually do the surgery at 3–6 months, before her baby teeth start to come in. Tooth development may also be effected by how premature she is, as this may slow down and put her behind in how she reaches milestones and such."

Michael nods along, taking in all the information. He has a bunch of questions but decides they can wait. He really wants to just hear everything Dr. Jacobs has to say for now.

"For her teeth, should they come in before her first surgery, she will need to meet with an Orthodontic Doctor. And later she may need braces, but we cannot say for sure about that as every_ cleft lip_ is different, and her teeth may come in perfectly straight. It is just something to keep in mind; something she may need in the future."

"Of course." Michael says.

"Now onto speech. As with the bottle nipple and trouble latching, _Peanut_ will, most likely, have trouble with her speech. And again, this is also effected by how premature she is. You see, with premature babies, you do not go off what would have been their "normal" list of milestones."

"For example, at four months, she would most likely not be rolling over, because she was born 2 months early, and therefore, her age will be tracked by taking what age she _should be_ and subtracting how many weeks she was premature."

Dr. Jacobs pulls out a slip of paper that has a quick list of milestones for each month. He has found that it is important, and also helps, if the parent is able to visually see a list of milestones as he speaks or explains the next part.

"So, four months is 16 weeks, and 16 weeks minus 8 weeks, – the amount of weeks she was born early, – it would come to 8 weeks, or two months, so she would be aligned with 2-month-old milestones instead of 4-month-old milestones. Does that make sense?"

Michael thinks it over, asking, "So, at 8 months, when she would normally be crawling, eating baby food, etcetera, those types of milestones, it would really be at a 6-month-old level."

And it does help; Michael points to a certain place on the piece of paper, saying. "8 months minus 8 weeks comes to about 6 months. So, we should look to 6-month-old milestones – sitting up, and things like that. Is that right?"

Dr. Jacobs smiles, "Yes, exactly. This is especially important to remember because many parents get worried over their babies not meeting or doing what they think they should be doing."

"See here?" He points to the "nine-month-old milestones". "A nine-month-old baby born 6 weeks early may not be saying their first word or pulling up just yet, but they may be sitting up, getting ready for solid foods, and so on, which is what a 7-½-month-old would be doing."

"Okay. I think I get it. And the same would be for _Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_, as they were both born 9 weeks."

"Yes, that is correct."

"May I keep this as future reference?"

"Of course! If you would like, we can get you a more-detailed one, as well. This is just a "simple" version for when we need a quick lookover." Michael agrees to that, and David asks Nurse Jo to go and get one of the folders that are made up of several more sheets of paper with more detailed milestones.

"Now, onto what I was saying – her speech may be affected because of the gap between her mouth and nose. Certain sounds are said through the nose, such a _m_, like in _some_, _mom_, _month_, and so on. Also, the letter _n_ is said through the nose, such as– here, try this:"

David holds his nose as one would if they smelled an unpleasant scent. He then demonstrates how it is hard to say words containing an _m_ or a _n_, like _no_, _nothing_, _number_, some, _month_, _moth_, and _music_, etc. while his nose is plugged.

Michael tries it, himself, and realizes that it… it _does_ help. The _cleft lip_ will cause _Peanut_ to have the same difficulties as he is having at the moment. She will also have trouble with the blended sound of _ng_, such as _song_.

"And she may require additional surgeries later on, to properly fix it once the first surgery is done, and we can see what other kinds of things need to be aligned, etcetera."

"I recommend a Speech Therapist, but again, this is something that will not need to be done for at least another year or two. Not until she begins speaking, and you can properly access just what problems with pronunciation, enunciation, etcetera are present, and figure just what kind of speech help she will need."

"Now, do you have questions about anything so far?"

"I would like to ask them at the end if that is all right. Just so I can ask all at once."

"Of course, of course. Just wanted to make sure. Well, actually, we have touched on everything I do believe. As _Peanut_ grows older, we will have other things that will be spoken about, but for now, I believe that is it."

Michael nods, and he sighs, and he gets out that piece of paper that has the questions his parents helped him think of. He asks about what all the babies' chances are of surviving, what he can do and how he can help them to grow, and many other questions.

He asks and makes notes of thinks like what kind of problems they'll have later in life, with learning in school, and how being born early will affect their immune systems, whether they will have medical complications, etc.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Michael is all of questions. He has all the answers for now. There is nothing else or much more the doctors and nurses can do, except give them babies the appropriate and needed medicine, formula, and keep an eye on their monitors.

Now, it is up to _Ladybug_, _Mister Man_, and _Peanut_. They have to fight. They bodies have to fight to stay alive, to get better, and to grow…

And… well, Michael just hopes they are able to do that.

* * *

**Lots of medical talk in this one. I tried to explain what a ****_cleft lip_**** is and just how it is going to affect ****_Peanut_****. As she grows older, more problems will arise but for now, those problems are not of major importance. ****Also, as Dr. Jacobs explains, _Peanut_ is not going to be following a "normal" list of milestones.**

**An example is: December 1978. _Peanut_ would be 5 months old **–** that is, July to December. However, that is her "chronological" age. Her "adjusted" age would be only counting from her due date, and full-term, – so August to December, – coming up with 3 months.**

**5 months (chronological age) minus 8 weeks (premature) equals 3 months old (adjusted age) in December of 1978. ****Basically, you do not count the number of weeks she was born prematurely in with her actual age.**

**If you have questions, just ask in a review or a PM, and I will try my best to answer! The Triplets are ****named in chapter 8! Just 2 more to go! And the**** next chapter introduces a very special and important character!**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	8. The Meeting (July 5th, 1978)

**_Chapter 7 – The Meeting_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's extended family, siblings, etc., and all doctors, unless otherwise noted.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for mention of loss of baby.**

* * *

**_Reply to reviews: (chapter 7)_**

**Daisyangel: Thanks for the review. I hope you are enjoying it so far, and that you were able to find your way around my other CM stories (I have tons). :)**

**Thank you to those that reviewed on the last chapter. And welcome to my new favoriter _Bellaboop08_. :) And once again, don't forget to follow! Updates are several times a month. I currently have up to chapter 17 prewritten, so updates may be as much as 3-4 times a month.**

* * *

**Reminders: ****_Ladybug_**** is Baby Girl Jareau #1, ****_Mister Man_**** is Baby Boy Jareau, ****_Peanut_**** is Baby Girl Jareau #2.**

**Notes: We are on July fifth, as that is what we ended with on the previous chapter. It is still early in the morning, about 11 or so. Also, a new and VERY important character is introduced in this chapter! I hope you all like it.**

**Notes 2: Thank you so much to those who have read, reviewed, favorited, and followed so far. We have tons more chapters, and years and memories, to get through, so I hope you stick around, and continue to enjoy the journey it will take you on.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**Wednesday, July 5**__**th**__**, 1978**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia's Children's Hospital*_**

The boys have gone home now. Kenneth came and picked them up.

Michael would usually send them to the bus stop a few blocks away and have them ride that, which would take them about four blocks away from their grandparents' house.

But after everything that happened in the last week, Kenneth coming to get them instead was a better idea.

He said that he was going to stay just a little while longer.

Michael gazes down at his youngest son, a little boy who has yet to be named. "Hey, _Mister Man_,"

Since he washed his hands before he came in, Michael reaches into the incubator through the little hole on the side. Well, actually, he has to open it first, as the holes are closed.

"Your Mamma is going to come see you soon, I promise," He really hopes he is able to get Sandy to come see her children. There is no telling just how long the Triplets will be here in the NICU and then after, in just the regular Nursery.

Hell, one or more of the babies may not make it. They all three weigh under 2 pounds.

After the doctor goes over everything that they could possibly talk about, regarding each of the Triplet babies, he leaves Michael to just visit with his daughters and son.

Right now, there is nothing that Dr. Jacobs said they can do for _Peanut's_ _cleft lip_. She needs to be much older in order to get any of the surgeries that are associated with repairing such bone structure deformities.

An infant should be a minimum of 3 months old, but there are other requirements for the surgeries such as weight, how well she does out of a warming incubator, how well she can keep her blood pressure stabilized, etc.

For now, Michael is to sit with his babies, talk to them, keep them company, and pray, pray _so fucking hard_, that they all survive this, and are able to all three leave the hospital, grow up, grow _older_, and lead relatively normal lives.

"How are daddy's precious babies?" Michael opens the little circle door on the side of _Mister Man's_ bed. He reaches in, running his fingertip of his index finger over the baby boy's tiny arm. "You guys are so loved, and I hope you all know that. You are loved by Daddy, by Mommy, and by all of your big sisters and big brothers."

He sniffles, shrugging up one shoulder to wipe his face, before whispering in a crackly voice, "Daddy wants you to know that you need to fight hard, ok? You have to fight so hard. For me, ok? Gain weight and grow strong, and before you know it, Mommy and I will be able to bring you home."

"We have your beds all ready. And I think you will love them," He shifts in his seat, and reaches over to the right side, where he uses his right hand to open up one of the circle doors on _Ladybug's_ bed, as well, so he can talk and touch both of them at the same time.

"We have not picked out any names for you guys yet. Mommy and I did not know we were going to get three wonderful little angels."

He chuckles and then sniffles, and he reaches into his back pocket where, for whatever reason, a piece of crumpled notebook paper, that has been folded and unfolded a dozen times, is currently stored.

Unfolding the paper, his eyes scan the two separate columns; one is a list of boy names, the other is a list of girl names. He looks them over but suddenly, not a one of the names seems even close to be fitting for the three infants who lay in these cots, side by side.

Not a one of them seems… _appropriate_… for _his children_.

"What do'ya say? Are you a Kimberly?" He says it to _Ladybug_, also known as, Baby Girl Jareau #1. "What about an… '_Amanda_'? Amanda Jareau, is that your name? How about _'Melissa'_? _'Jessica'_… _'Angela'_?… Maybe a Juliet? Are you a '_Juliet'_?"

"Oh, I like that one!"

It's the voice of a little girl and it startles Michael so much that he jolts and his left hand, still in the little circle hole of _Mister Man's_ cot, hits the top of the circle. He whirls around to find a little girl standing there, with a red t-shirt proudly proclaiming _I'm a Big Sister!_ and a pair of matching black tights.

She looks to be younger than Elijah but older than Roz and Gabe, so about 7 or 8. She has a gap-tooth smile, curly brown hair that is back in a French braid, and adorable little dimples in both cheeks.

"Oh, sorry, Misser," She smiles even wider. Then, her eyes widen as she takes in the fact that Michael is sitting between _two_ baby cots. "Ooohhh! Are these your babies?"

Michael smiles, glad to have the distraction, but also wondering who this little girl belongs to, as she does not look to be old enough to be allowed in here (the age limit is 10 years, and with adult supervision).

"Yes, these are my babies, and so is that little girl right over there," He points to _Peanut's_ cot.

"Wow! Twiplets?! That's so cool! I have two sissers in here, too, y'know. They're twins, 'cause that is what you call it when two babies are borned on the same day from the same mommy. They were borned yesserday, on my birday! I'm 8 years old now. This is like, the best birday present, _ever_!"

His smile widens as he says, "Well, Happy Birthday! Having a little sibling does sound like a pretty cool birthday present. And you are also right: that _is_ what you call two babies born to the same mother. And you know what is super cool about me and my family?"

He decides to just entertain her until her parents or guardian come looking for her. Besides, he can use the distraction, himself.

"What?" She peers in the cot that is holding _Mister Man_, seeming enthralled with looking at this more-than-usual tiny baby boy.

"I have _two_ sets of twins as my kids."

Wide brown eyes turn towards him.

"They are a little girl and boy, their names are Emma and Caleb, and they are twelve. Then I have another little girl and boy, who are six, named Gabriel and Roslyn…"

"Rah-Rahz… Lynn? That is a weird name, but… I kinda like it." The little girl smiles at him. "And they sound like short names! That is cool. My brothers and little sister's names are all short, too, ya'know! Jacob and Twisten and Amaya and Malachi and Claire and Grace!"

"Those sound like cool names, too. And, you know, I have one more set of twins," He just goes for it. Who says this conversation will ever come up between him and this little girl ever again? "They were both little girls, Alexandria and Stephanie, and would be 4 years old right now. Not so short names, those."

The twinkle in the little girl's eyes dims as she catches on the past tense that Michael used.

"Would be?"

She pouts and his heart breaks as his pain is suddenly mirrored back to in a pair of 8-year-old, deep brown eyes.

"Yes, would be. They are angels up in Heaven right now. They are watching over their two sisters and baby brother, and their older siblings."

She nods, glancing back at _Mister Man_. Then she turns again, and he unexpectedly ends up with an arm-full of ebony curls. Her arms loop around his neck and give him a squeeze.

"I have a secret," She whispers. "My sissers aren't _really_ twins. What's that– Do you… Do you know– What is it called when it is more than 3 babies but less than 5 babies?"

Michael chokes out, "Quadruplets?" feeling his heart ache for what is about to said.

"Yeah," Her breath tickles his neck, and he adjusts so she is standing more comfortably, with his own arms around her. "Yeah, that. Mommy was supposta have qua-quad-quadudelets. 2 boys and 2 girls, so I woulda had two broders an' two sissers. But my broders were born… Daddy said they were borned asleep. Did you know that could happen, Misser?"

He swallows roughly.

Yeah, unfortunately, he did know that.

"Isn't that weird, Misser? Babies are supposta be borned 'wake. They can always sleep in here if they're tired! But–… But Daddy said… Daddy said this was a special kind of sleep. And the doctors couldn't wake them up, no matter what."

She looks up at him, her brown eyes swirling with much more hurt and a knowledge of loss than any 8-year-old should ever have to deal with.

"Do you miss your daughters, Misser? The ones who would be 4 years old? 'Cause I miss my broders. I miss my broder who was supposta be borned 4 years ago but died before Mommy could make him born. And I miss my broders who were supposta to be my sissers' quad-quad-droo-lets broders."

She pauses, lays her head back on his chest, and whispers,

"I really, really just want another baby broder, so I can teach them things, and protect them. Why do they have to be angels, Misser? Why can't I have another little broder like I have two big broders?"

Michael can do nothing; he cannot make his mouth form any words. He can just tighten his grip on this little girl with whom he suddenly shares the pain of loss.

He hugs her, and he whispers, "I'm so sorry, Sweetheart,"

And he simply does nothing else.

* * *

**Well… not exactly how I planned it. This was… It was tough one to write. But I introduced a very important character, can you guess who it is? The next chapter will be the Triplets getting their names!**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**I would really love to know what you all are thinking. Whether it is the story has too many details, is going too slow, you would like it to have more or less of a certain character(s) etc. Or if you would like to see something in particular, or have something happen, just let me know! I am open to this being partially a reader's-request story, as well as, what I already have planned. :)**


	9. The Names (July 5th, 1978)

**_Chapter _****_8 __–_ ****_The Names_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ & Emily's siblings, other family members, and the doctors, etc.**  
**Spoilers: None**  
**Rating: K+**

**Reminders: _Ladybug_ is Baby Girl Jareau #1, _Mister Man_ is Baby Boy Jareau, _Peanut_ is Baby Girl Jareau #2.**

**Notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! Here is the next one, the most important chapter so far - the Triplets get their names! Also, it is confirmed who that little girl was talking to Michael.**

**Notes 2: Next update will be next month on the eighth, if I get enough feedback on whether or not I need to change anything. If not, it will be sometime later this month. And don't forget to follow so you can get the update alerts!**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**_*NICU*_**

Michael and the little girl stand there in the same position for several minutes before the quietness is broken by,

"Emilia Elizabeth! What have your father and I told you about wandering off like that?"

They startle, and the little girl – Emilia – pulls back from him, looking proper chastised. Michael turns to see a woman, about his age, if not a year or so older, who closely resembles this little girl. When he looks back on this moment, he will realize that he recognized her long before when he first thought he did.

She frowns, walking over to the woman.

"Sorry, _Mamí_. I just wanted to see Claire and Gracie!"

"I know, baby. But you still need to listen to me and Daddy. Remember what Papa Angus said? You are not allowed in here without a parent because you are only 8, not 10, like kids are supposed to be. If you want to be in here, you have to be with Daddy or me, otherwise, you will not be allowed to see Claire or Gracie until they come home. Is that understood?"

Emilia nods.

"Yes, _Mamí_."

"Okay, baby. Now, what were doing in here, hmm? You weren't bothering this nice gentleman, were you?"

Michael goes to step in, to let this woman know that, honestly, Emilia was not bothering him. It was actually nice, talking to her. He needed the distraction, if only for the few minutes it lasted.

"Oh, no, Ma'am." He tells her. "Your daughter was actually quite a delight to speak to." He then stands up, holding out a hand as he properly introduces himself. "Michael Jareau, Ma'am. And these are my children, although they do not have a name yet." He winks at Emilia, since the first thing she had said to him was a comment on a name he was trying to decide on for _Ladybug_.

"Elizabeth Prentiss, and this my daughter, Emilia, and my youngest daughters, Claire," She points to a cot, two spaces to the left of _Ladybug_, "And Grace." Her bed is right beside Claire's. "I'm sorry if she was bothering you. She was just a little _too_ eager to see her sisters."

Elizabeth gives Emilia a pointed look but this time, the 8-year-old One-Day-Passed Birthday Girl looks down to hide her smile, not because she feels "guilty" for disobeying the rules.

"Misser Michael, – can I call you that? –" He nods. "Okay! Misser Michael, pease may I help you pick outta name for your babies, pease, pease?"

"Emmy, Sweetheart, Mr. Jareau might not want your help."

"I know, _Mamí_," There is a mischievous glint in her eyes as she says, "That's why I _asked_ if I could help," Then, she looks to him, and… _smirks_, and… "He can always say no, ya'know!"

Michael chuckles, shaking his head. This little girl really is something.

But, he knows that it may be a while before he can (hopefully) convince Sandy to come with him to see the babies, so he decides there really is no harm in letting this little girl at least _look over_ the list of name they have already picked out.

Michael bends down in front of Emilia, "Tell ya'what… I do happen to have a list of names, and if you want, and it is ok with your mom, then I would be glad to let you see it. How's that?"

Emilia looks up at Elizabeth, who smiles and nods, and then she practically vibrates with excitement as she whispers, "Oh, yes, pease!"

Michael hands her the piece of paper and she takes it, wide-eyed and as gentle as she could possible handle something. "Thank you…" She plops down in the seat. "Misser Michael, may you, um… pease write your… your last name so I can see it. That is very important detail in the naming pwocess!"

He shakes his head, knowing he probably would not believe a little girl like Emilia existed if he were not here to witness this little girl's adorable wit. He reaches into the gown he wearing, to his shirt pocket, and takes out a pen, neatly writing "J-a-r-e-a-u" in print, not cursive, so that Emilia can read it, smiling at her "thank you" before turning away to continuing conversing with Elizabeth.

It takes Emilia 10 minutes to go through the list of names, both boy and girl, with about 15 names each…

She scribbles with the pen, writing, marking out, over and over. She asks about Lexie and Stephanie, if he would like to use one of their middles name for _Ladybug_ or _Peanut_, and he surprised that she thought to ask, though, he realizes, he probably should be _that_ surprised.

He tells her that Stephanie's middle name would have been _Marie_, and sure, he would love to use for one of his daughters to honor her.

Emilia simply nods and goes back to the list, and then…

"I got it!"

She jumps up, handing him the paper. Then she turns to _Ladybug's_ cot.

"I think… _she_ should be Juliet! It's so pwetty. And _him_… He should be Lucas or maybe Matthew… or Tyler. Lucas Juh-woh, Tyler Juh-woh… Matthew Juh-woh. You said no one else had long names, right? 'Cept for Stephanie an' Alexandria, so, his should be short, too! Tyler is short, ya'know… or Lucas. Lucas Juh-woh."

She looks to him, sees him gazing at the baby boy in the cot they are currently both beside.

He mulls it over, thinking, and…

"Lucas Matthew Jareau…" _Perfect_, he thinks. "Very fitting."

Emilia beams at him using _two_ of the names she picked out. And Michael turns around, to look at _Ladybug_… "Juliet and Lucas." He glances up, sees Elizabeth watching them, and discretely winks, before saying, "Another wonderful choice. Juliet Marie and Lucas Matthew Jareau."

Emilia is absolutely thrilled that this man seems to love not one, but _two_, of her name choices. Then, she remembers… He said he had triplets, which means…

There is one more baby.

She walks over to the third cot that has the last name _Jareau_ sticky-noted to it. And she gazes at the baby.

Her world tilts on its side as she places a palm gently against the plastic covering of the incubator. "She's so pwetty…" Emilia breathes, her eyes wide. She notices _Peanut's_ lip, and she asks about it, her eyes never leaving the tiny baby in front of her.

"She has something called a _cleft lip_," Elizabeth moves closer now, intrigued by what he is saying. "That is when her bones and skin do not grow properly, and it ends up looking like this…" He gives her a watered-down version of everything Dr. Jacobs explained to him.

"She is beautiful," Emilia whispers again. "The prettiest baby I've ever seen… but don't tell Claire or Gracie, 'cause they might get jealous."

She looks Michael in the eye, adding, "I think she should have long name, 'cause it would be unique, just like she is…" She goes back to watching _Peanut_. "Jennifer… Her name should be Jennifer."

Michael mulls it over, looking at this tiny 13 ½-inch-long, 1.9-pound baby girl.

"I think that is wonderful name. Juliet Marie, Lucas Matthew, and Jennifer Jareau… I love it."

"I hope I get to see her forever. I think she would like to be my friend… Do you, Misser Michael? I would pwotect like I do with 'Maya, an' like I am gonna do with Claire an' Gracie!"

Michael chuckles, saying, "I think she would _love_ to be your friend." He does not say how he is unsure if any of the babies will even survive long enough to be able to play with this little girl, or if she and her mom and family will be around for that long, but still… He just can't say no to her; she is just too precious.

"Just in case…" Emilia whispers. "Can you make her middle name _Elizabeth_? That is my middle name, an' I want her to have something to remember her by me." She looks to him. "Pease, Misser Michael?"

_Jennifer Elizabeth Jareau…_

He thinks _maybe it wouldn't be such a bad choice_.

But there _was_ one more name he would really love to use.

"What do you think about… Jennifer Elizabeth-Ann Jareau? Elizabeth will be spelled with an _s_, E-l-i-s-a-b-e-t-h"

Emilia beams, nodding excitedly. "Wonderful! A wonderful name for a beautiful baby."

Michael smiles back at her, turning to Elizabeth, _winking at her_, then gesturing with his hand in the air. "Nurse Jo? I think my babies have officially been named."

"Oh, goodie!" Nurse Jo comes over with some slips of paper that will be put in the little slot, which are made for names, that are on the cribs. "And just what are these little angels going to be named?"

"Well, this little girl right here," He taps the plastic covering of _Ladybug's_ cot, "Is going to be Juliet Marie."

Nurse Jo positively _beams_. "A wonderful choice. Just one question… How would you like _Juliet_ to be spelled?"

Emilia taps his arm rapidly, gesturing the paper in her hand. Michael nods to her, then says to Nurse Jo, "J-u-l-i-e-t, please."

"Okay…" She writes it down, slipping it into the slot. "And what about _Mister Man_, here?"

"Lucas!" Emilia bursts out. "Lucas Matthew! Isn't it pwetty?"

Jo nods enthusiastically back at Emilia. "Well, of course! Two of my favorite names; what could be better?" Once his name is in the slot, they all move to _Peanut's_ cot.

"And what about this precious little girl here, huh?"

This time, Michael smiles down at Emilia, and says, "Would you like to do the honor?"

"Jennifer! Jennifer Hope Elisabeth-Ann Jareau! Is–… Is that ok, Misser Michael? That she can have three middle names? It's just so pwetty!"

He makes a split-second decision to agree, and not really think hard about how weird it would be to have all his kids with one middle name, and then one daughter with _three_. He decides to go for it, because, why not? Who says a parent should not be allowed to give their child three middle names?

"Yes, of course. Jennifer Hope Elisabeth-Ann Jareau, please, Nurse Jo. With _'Elizabeth' _spelled with an _s_, please."

"Okay! Well, tell'ya what. We do not have enough room to spell all of that out, but we can do one middle name, and the initials of the other middle names. How's that?"

"'Kay! Um… Jennifer… Jennifer Hope!"

And so, it goes.

_Jennifer Hope E-A Jareau_ is written on the slip of paper, and Nurse Jo has it to Emilia. They all watch as she puts it into the slot with great care, cementing that this little girl is now named, and has _three_ middle names.

A wonderful collection of names for a beautiful little girl who is going to fight like hell to survive and grow up.

* * *

**Ahh! They have their names! What did you think? Did you like them? I love the name Juliet, I just think it is pretty. And for JJ, I just couldn't pick one name, so she got 3 instead! ****Just in case you are wondering, yes, Emilia Prentiss ****_is_**** Emily.**** Also, Jenny is ****_Peanut_****, which means she is the one with the ****_cleft lip_****. I wonder what sorts of problems that will cause her in the future?**

**And you may have noticed Emilia's speech is a little off. This is because she only _just_ turned 8 a day ago. Whether or not something else is going on will be mentioned much, much later on. Also, would you like me to introduce Benson and his siblings, or would you like to wait?**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :) I would so love to know if you are enjoying this. Anything in particular you would want to see more or less of?**


	10. The Unforgivable Words (July 11th, 1978)

**_Chapter 9 – The Lifetime of Hurt (#2)_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, cousins, and other family members, and the doctors, future teachers, etc.****  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for language.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! For _Daisyangel_, I have a chapter with some of the kids coming up. It will be #13. And for _Bohogal1998_, I will bring Benson in as soon as possible! I think maybe around #20, which is a Christmas chapter. As for _Hetwaszoietsals_, thank you! And to _PAGET_, you're welcome, and I have lots of Em/Jenny moments coming up! :)**

**Notes: Finally, a time skip! This is going to be July fifth and then time skip to one week later. It will also have Emma's point of view, which is JJ's sister, and the oldest girl in the family.**

**Notes 2: This is super long, and I do ****not condone the language used in this chapter, nor any future language that degrades a child's mental, physical, or emotional intelligence and/or capabilities.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**Wednesday, July 5**__**th**__**, 1978**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – 4:30 p.m.*_**

After the Triplets are officially named, Michael uses some change for the Payphone to get in touch with his parents. He lets them know that the Triplets have officially been named.

Kenneth drives Caleb and Eli back to the Hospital but informs Michael that he cannot stay. Karen is coming home from picking up their daughter, Kelley-Elizabeth, because, as their luck would have it, she was at a sleepover when she started to not feel well, which led to her already throwing up once.

Kenneth decides to bring the boys to the Hospital and lets Michael knows this, so they do not come back to their house and risk getting sick, as well.

Once Caleb and Elijah are back at the NICU, he introduces them to Elizabeth and Emilia. Then, Michael tells them the babies have officially been named and goes on to introduce them.

"This is one of your sisters, her name is going to Juliet Marie, in honor of Stephanie."

"Wow…" Elijah comments. "That is very pretty name, Daddy. What about _Peanut _and _Mister Man_?"

"Well," Michael ushers them over. "Your brother's name is going to be Lucas, and his middle name will be Matthew. Lucas Matthew Jareau."

Caleb blinks at the name, and it slowly dawns on him…

"Matthew, like Sabba's brother who died as a young boy?"

"Yes, exactly. I thought it would be a nice way of remembering him since you, Eli, and Gabe did not received the name."

Finally, it is time…

_Peanut_.

Their sister who is the youngest, their _baby_ sister.

"_Peanut's_ name is very special, as well. Emilia helped pick this name out also. She is going to be _Jennifer_."

Elijah bursts out with, "Jenny! Oh, Daddy. It's perfect! What is her middle name?"

"Well, that is also a very special thing. Emilia has asked that we give Jennifer a middle name so she can be remembered, so one of them will be _Elizabeth_ but spelled with an _s_. Then, I picked out Ann, for your Aunt Anne, which is one of the babies who was supposed to be born in between your Aunt Cynthia and your Uncle Jack."

"And finally, another name that Emilia picked out. _Hope_. So, her name will officially be _Jennifer Hope Elisabeth-Ann Jareau_."

Elijah raises his eyebrow at the… _very long_… name but nods anyway.

"It's beautiful, Dad. I love it, don't you, Caleb?"

And Caleb nods and smiles and…

He _hopes_ that they will survive the next couple of months and will eventually be able to come home.

* * *

_**1 week later – Tuesday, July 11**__**th**__**, 1978  
East Allegheny, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania**_

* * *

**_*Jareau Household – Emma's point of view*_**

I am _finally _not sick anymore. It has been one week since my baby sister, her name is Jennifer – but we call her "JJ" because of her initials – was born. And 2 weeks since my other baby sister and baby brother, Juliet and Lucas, were born.

Since I finally have no cough or sore throat whatsoever, we are going to see them at the Hospital today. Well, Eli and Caleb and I are, because our little sister and brother, Roslyn and Gabriel, are six years old. The rule is only kids 10 years old and up are allowed in there so they cannot come in.

"Emma! Roslyn!"

That's Dad calling for us, so Roz and I run downstairs.

"Hey, you two. Are you ready to go?"

We both say yes. Daddy tells us to go get in the car and he will out there in a minute. I know that he is going to talk to Mom. It has been two weeks since the babies were born and since then, Daddy has been trying to get Mom to come with him to go see them.

She won't do it, though. And when I ask why, he just says it is probably difficult for her to think about the babies being so small, and in NICU, and everything. He says he thinks she might feel responsible, ya'know, because she was not able to keep the babies in her belly until their due date in August.

Well anyway, we all go get in the car.

"Sissy Emma?"

It's my sister Roslyn.

"Yes, Roz?"

"Do you think Mommy will come with us this time?"

Well, I kind of want to say yes. But you know, being 12, it makes you able sense things better than a 6-year-old would. And I would really like to say that Mom might come with us, but again, at 12, I understand a little more than Roz or Gabey, which means…

"I don't know, Roz. Probably not. Daddy has been asking her and asking her, even saying that the babies are ok, but she still won't come. So…" I sigh out a big breath. "No. She probably will not come."

Roz pouts and kind of sulks and leans against the seat. She really wants Mom to come. I mean, Daddy is great and all, but sometimes a little girl just needs her Mommy to do things with her.

We sit in silence for a while, well, the rest of us do. Caleb is tapping the seats and the windows. Sometimes he can be so annoying! Why can't he just sit still and quietly like the rest of us?

"Oh, Sissy Em, look!"

Suddenly, Gabriel is pointing at something.

"Look! There she is!"

This is my brother, Elijah.

"Yay, Mommy's coming!"

Well, Roslyn certainly seems happier.

Mom gets in the car and we all start talking at once…

"Hi, Mommy!"

"I'm so glad you decided to come!"

"Mommy, can we go get ice cream before we see the babies?"

"Are you gonna come tomorrow, too, Mama?"

"Mommy, Mommy!"

"Hush, Gabey, I was talkin' to her first!"

"No, you weren't, Roz, I was!"

"No, I was!"

"Guys, please stop…"

My voice is drowned out by the twins arguing. I just huff and roll my eyes.

Daddy suddenly gives a sharp whistle, and everyone goes quiet… Well,… almost everyone…

"Mommy, tell Gabriel I was talkin' first!"

"No, you were_ not_, Roslyn!"

"Yes, I was _to_!"

"Roslyn Grace, Gabriel Anthony!"

Oh, boy… Daddy _never_ uses our full names. Before he can anything else though, Mom is doing what she _always_ does. Threatening everyone…

"Everyone shut your mouths before I have your father pull this vehicle over and give each one of you a swat on the ass!"

I just sigh, roll my eyes, and scoot further down in the seat. She _always_ does that. Why can't she just be a normal mom? Or like Daddy. I hate her for it. She is like that mean teacher at school who always takes the whole class to the Principal's Office for a paddle, even when it was just a couple of kids misbehaving.

Me and four other kids are the only ones who are not allowed to go because our parents all got really upset, well, Daddy was super upset, Mom didn't even want to hear whether I was actually misbehaving. She just told me I probably deserved it!

But Daddy was _so mad_. And, don't tell anyone I said this but… I would actually say, he was _pissed off_. He marched up to the school and told them that if he found out any teacher was taking me to the office to be paddled without him being made aware, or if I did not deserve that sort of punishment, then he was going to sue the school!

And four other kids' parents did the same.

Oh, boy, was one of the girl's mom and dad _pissed off_.

But enough about that.

Daddy sighs when Mom says that. He then gently asks everyone to please be quiet until we get to the Hospital. Roslyn and Gabriel are quiet because they know that Mom would actually spank them. And they _hate_ that. So, they just go quiet.

It takes us nearly two hours but finally, we get to the Hospital. We had to go all the way to the Children's Hospital in Philly because the Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh – where we live – cannot take care of babies where were born so early, like Juliet, Lucas, and Jennifer were.

* * *

**_*20 minutes later – Michael's point of view – Philadelphia Children's Hospital*_**

Well, I finally was able to do it. I convinced my wife to come with me and the kids to see our Triplet babies who are in the NICU, here at the Children's Hospital in Philadelphia.

The babies are all over a week old. That is the strange thing about having them born 1 week apart. Juliet and Lucas, born on June 26 and June 27, respectively, are two weeks old, while Jennifer, born on July 4, is 1 week old.

That is certainly going to be fun in the future, when Jules and Luke get presents and cake before Jenny.

We are bringing Roslyn and Gabriel with us even though they are not allowed in NICU. Only kids aged 10 and up are allowed, but this is the first time all five of my children have been free of illness, including just a little cough.

Hopefully, we can maybe move the babies' cots closer to the big bay window, and Roslyn and Gabriel will be able to see them.

As we approach the NICU, I see a couple of familiar faces –

"Mister Michael!"

That's Emilia. The little girl who stole my heart last week, and even helped name the Triplets.

"Hello, 'Milia!" I greet back. "How are you today?"

"I'm great! Thanks for askin'. Hmm… I know two of them," She whispers the last part, pointing past me to where Sandy and the kids stand. "But who are the rest of'em, Mister Michael?"

I chuckle and bend down in front of her.

"Well, you remember how I said I had two sets of twins?"

"Yep!"

"Well, you see the girl standing by Caleb?" I get a nod. "That is my daughter, Emma. She is 12, like Caleb. Then you see the other two kids by Elijah? Those are my youngest twins, Roslyn and Gabriel. They are 6."

Emilia suddenly gets very excited, motioning to her mother, Elizabeth.

"_Mamí_, did'ya hear? I got their ages right! Can we talk to Papa Angus now, pease, pease? I wanna ask him!"

Elizabeth chuckles and nods, obviously understanding what Emilia is talking about. "Papa Angus is coming up right now, and he is going to speak to Mr. Jareau about it, alright?"

Emilia nods enthusiastically, "Okay, _Mamí_. Mister Michael, my Papa Angus wants to talk to you, ok? 'Cause he is the Hospital Boss, and he can say if your kids, Rahz-Lynn and Gabriel can see Jenny, Luke, and Jules!"

I raise an eyebrow up at Elizabeth, wanting to be sure I heard correctly. I mean, I would love for it to happen, but I already explained to Roz and Gabe that they would not be able to go inside the NICU because they are too young. They were both upset, understandably, but eventually, they became partially ok with it.

Elizabeth nods to me to let me know that Emilia is apparently correct. So, we wait. Emilia gets to know everyone and I, well… I keep looking at Elizabeth. I know it is not polite to stare but, just something about her seems so familiar. Like, I have met her before or… I don't know, but there is just _something_ that will not leave me alone.

Elizabeth notices my staring and I know I have to explain myself…

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Prentiss, I don't mean to stare but… This is going to sound a little strange… But, have we met before last week?"

She stands straighter at my question, eyes looking me over in what I assume is the same way I was looking at her. Finally, she says,

"You said your name was Michael, correct? Michael Jareau?" I nod. She just kind of… smiles and… "Your wife is Sandy Jareau?"

I just nod again because I did introduce them earlier but… I feel like she is asking for a completely new reason.

"Your older children, the three older ones, they wouldn't happen to be named Caleb and Emma, born on October 31st, 1966, and Elijah, born on January 1st, 1968, would they?"

I blink. And… I just… blink again. Well, I mean, it is not unusual that she would know their names, but their birthdays _and_ birthyears _is_ a little unsettling.

And I am about to politely excuse myself from this woman who seems to know a little _too much_ about my children when…

Her husband comes down the hallway, with their older children.

And the _reason_ I know he is her husband?

"August 1969…" I breathe out, wide-eyed. "James Prentiss," I greet the man before he can even say anything, then… "Tristen and Jacob…" The two older kids look weirded out but then…

They look to behind me, where Emilia is playing a game with my children.

"Oh, I remember you!"

Surprisingly, this comes from Caleb not one of the Prentiss children.

"You're Tristen! We lived at your house when the Hurricane hit Mississippi. You have the same birthday as me and Emma."

Tristen comes to the realization of who these people are. He has seen the photos of the family who stayed at his house back in 1969. Hurricane Camille hit the United States and was going to be a on direct path to the Jareaus' house, so they came up to Kansas, where his family used to live.

They had three kids back then – Emma and Caleb were the oldest at almost 3, while Elijah was the youngest, at only 19 months. But Tristen and his brother, Jacob, and James's little sister, Jackie, had a blast playing with them.

The realization hits me, as well, and my smile grows.

"Ah! Elizabeth and James! Well, it is certainly a pleasure to run into you again. I would like to thank you, once again, for letting us stay with you during that time."

James just kind of waves me off, though not impolitely, and smiles while saying, "Michael, it is no problem. I am glad we could provide your family a safe place to stay." Then, he brings up something that he is unaware he should not mention…

"I want to express my condolences, once more, to you and your wife. I am so very sorry for your losses on that day."

I turn just in time to see Sandy's body language change drastically. She is now even more closed off than she was, and she does not respond to James. Also, I know just by looking at her that she will be even less patient should any of the kids act up in the least bit of misbehavior.

Finally, though, a man comes walking down the hall. Emilia and the youngest two kids, a boy and a girl about Roz and Gabe's age, run towards him, yelling, "Papa Angus!"

After introductions are made, Mr. Prentiss (Angus) sits us down and explains what he is going to let happen. He says that Emilia told him that my youngest twins, Roslyn and Gabriel, are not allowed in the NICU because of their age.

However, as he has done with Emilia, who is 8, and his younger granddaughter and youngest grandson, named Amaya and Malachi, both also aged 6, he is going to let Roslyn and Gabriel in to see their baby siblings.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jareau, I want to make clear something," He says it in a polite voice, even though the words themselves may not be 100% "nice". "Your daughter and son, I believe Emmy told me their names were Roslyn and Gabriel?"

"Yes, sir, that is correct."

"Well, Emmy told me that they are the only ones who cannot come into the NICU to see their little siblings because they are 6 years old. So, she asked for me to maybe let them in. And I agreed to this. However, I do need to set some ground rules that _must be_ followed, otherwise, I cannot allow it."

I nod to this. If following a few rules is what gets them inside, then absolutely, I will do whatever is needed.

"First, is the general rule: they must be 100% disease-free. This includes a runny nose, cough, or a simply a scratchy throat. The babies in the NICU are highly susceptible to sicknesses, which I am sure your nurse has already informed you of, and we try to keep anyone with so much as the sniffles from coming inside."

"Next, they are to be with a parent, so you or your wife, a grandparent, or even Elizabeth or James, before they are allowed to walk through those doors. And finally, I am sorry that this may sound harsh, but if they are seen in there without an any adult supervision whatsoever, then I will have to withdraw this privilege."

"I made this exception for my grandchildren, and I am willing to do so for your family, but I cannot have others finding out, and fighting me on bending the rules."

That makes perfect sense to me. It is understandable why Emilia and her brother and sister are allowed in because, as he said, they are his grandchildren, and I am very happy that he is trusting me and my family to be able to bend the rules for us, as well.

Looking behind me, I say to my youngest twins, "Roz, Gabe, did you hear what Mister Angus said?"

"Yeah, Daddy!" Roslyn is so happy. I know that she was looking forward to seeing the Triplets and was incredibly disappointed when she found out the age limit. "I hafta be with a grown up and not be sick, cause if I am sick, it will the babies sick, and that just wouldn't be good. Thank you, Mister Angus!"

I chuckle and turn to Gabriel, saying, "And did you hear what he said, Gabey?"

Sometimes he needs a little help processing what is said, especially if it is a lot of information at once. He has trouble understanding and remembering all the details, so I decide to break it down for him. I explain that we cannot be sick even if it is a little cough. This he _does_ understand because it has been said so many times.

Then I explain that he will get in trouble and will not be allowed back inside the NICU if he goes in there without an adult, and this means my wife or I, his Sabba or Nana, or Mrs. and Mr. Prentiss. This is very important to remember, even if he just wants to say a quick _'hi'_ to the babies, and decides to try and sneak in.

He gets it all then. My kids are all very smart and I have no doubt that they will follow the rules. None of them would want to make the babies sick as well as get their privilege taken away.

After everyone washes up and puts on a gown, we step inside the room. Emilia immediately goes over my daughters and son, while her older siblings, plus Caleb, go to Claire and Grace, who are Elizabeth and James's daughters.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

Everyone gathers into the NICU. Emilia is so excited to see her sisters. She made a tape-recording of herself singing and talking to the babies, and she is so excited for Claire and Gracie to hear it.

Also, Dr. Jacobs has said he has some news about the Triplets. While we wait for him to finish speaking with another couple about their baby, I introduce, officially, my wife to our youngest children.

"Babe, these are our little babies. Aren't they just precious?"

I lead her over to Juliet's and Lucas's beds because I am unsure what her thoughts about Jennifer are. "This is Juliet. Dr. Jacobs – you will meet him in just a moment – said that she is doing wonderfully. She is keeping her temperature stable and taking feeds and gaining weight."

I smile at Sandy, trying to encourage her to interact with the babies, even if it is just opening the little circle door and simply speaking to them.

"Dr. Jacobs says she continues to gain weight, keep her blood pressure and oxygen levels up, and if this continues, Babe, if Jules keeps doing this, she–…" I breathe out laugh, "She might be able to come home or, at least, leave the NICU for the regular Nursery in as little as a couple of months."

My heart speeds up at the sight of a _smile_ on her face. She opens the door, reaching in, slowly, unsure at first, and I put left hand on her back, then reach inside the cot with my right hand. Gently, and reassuringly, I guide Sandy's hand over to Juliet's tiny little arm.

"She has grown a full half inch, babe. And she is 6 ounces pound heavier than when she was born." That means she is now 16 inches and 2.1 pounds. "Aren't you proud of her? She is so strong, a little fighter, just like her mommy."

"Hello, my Princess," Sandy whispers, still smiling and running one of her fingers across Juliet's arm.

I give her a few more moments and then I guide her to Lucas's incubator-cot. I start telling her about him – he is still 15 inches long – his birth length, – and he is also only 1.7 pounds, which is only 3 ounces more than his birthweight.

He needs to really start growing but, of course, he is only two weeks old, so he has plenty of time to still start growing and gaining weight. Sandy talks to Lucas, as well. She reaches in and whispers how much she loves him. I tell her his outlook, as far as how long he will be in here, is little more unknown than with Juliet.

"Dr. Jacobs says that he is about where he should be, given that he was born 9 weeks premature. Lucas is a fighter, as well. He loves to be spoken to, and I think he enjoys the _crashing waves_ sound effect the most, from the noise machine that they sometimes play over the speaker."

Sandy reaches in, still hesitant but a little less than earlier. She is still smiling, and it makes me feel so _good_. Maybe this means we are finally getting somewhere. _Maybe_ she will start wanting to come here with us more.

***** this is the part you can skip, if you wish****… here** **to the end*********

Finally, the moment that I, unfortunately, have been dreading happens. After her reaction to Jennifer at birth, I have no idea what to expect this time.

I just hope she does not call our daughter "that thing" again. I know this will raise many questions with the other parents, doctors, and families in this room.

She has already said it multiple times at home, and I have had to answer numerous inquiries, especially from Caleb and Eli, about why their mother was calling their baby sister a "thing" or why she refuses to otherwise speak of Jennifer.

So, I take a deep breath, and I steel my emotions, readying myself to do damage control, if necessary.

"And lastly, but certainly not least, this is our youngest daughter. We named her Jennifer. I think it is a very wonderful name for a beautiful little girl."

Sandy is silent and she begins to close in on herself. She loses her smile, and begins to frown, her body language changing to what I have come to know of "harsh" because of how this usually leads to her speaking to the children in a very cruel tone of voice.

"Dr. Jacobs said that, because of her lip, – which, Honey, it is called a _cleft lip_, – and because of it, they inserted a feeding tube into her stomach. It is called a _Gastrostomy tube_, or _G-tube_ for short. This is because of her trouble with latching onto… a bot-… a bottle… nipple–… Honey?"

She has stopped paying attention. I know this without even getting a good look at her face. I sigh quietly, trying not to get irritated, but… well…

"Sandra. Are you just going to ignore the fact that you have a _third_ child here? That you had _triplets_ instead of twins? Your daughter is alive, you have _two of them_. Not just one. Ok? And I need you to pay the same amount of attention to Jennifer as you are to Juliet and Lucas."

I curl my hands into fists to keep from lashing out; to keep from grabbing my _wife_ by the shoulders and shaking her and yelling _what the hell is the matter with you?!_

"Look, Hun, I know that them all being born this early, I know that is a lot to–… to come to terms with. But, you are not alone in being worried or-or just… Honey, look. I know that it may be scary to look at our daughter and see her lip this way."

I sigh harshly, trying to keep my temper in check. Trying to stop myself from _lashing out_.

"But, that does not mean she is anymore _less than_ being _our child_. There are surgeries that can be done, not now but in a several months, to repair her lip. I–…"

What can I say?

She just seems to be completely ignoring me. I know that she may be feeling some kind of guilt, maybe for not being able to carry them to term, but that does not mean she gets to act this way.

I am about to say something else; something about how she needs to put on her big girl panties and-and just… _get the fuck over it._

I know it is harsh, but I feel those things, too. I am worried, too. I am wrought with fear that every time I walk out of this NICU, it will be last time all three of my infant children are alive. _I _have fears and worries and anxieties, and _I _need her support, too.

Just as I am about to say something, my heart plummets as I hear my wife, the woman who _I love_, say,

"I told you, Michael. That thing is not, nor will _it_ ever, be my child. How can you-you… How can you look at this _thing_, and consider it your child? She looks hideous! She is probably going to be retarded for the rest of her life, like Gabriel is. Stupid child. I wish I had went through with that partial abortion. I–"

_SMACK_

I'm not sure…

I…

My hand acts as its own volition.

I am not even aware of anything. It is like… The sounds all around me have faded out. All I hear, in my head, my mind, is my… my _wife's_ words: _She looks hideous. She is probably going to be retarded, like Gabriel. How can you consider this thing your child?_

My God, what–… Jesus Christ.

It takes what seems like hours, days, even, but is really only 4 minutes. I know because of the clock on the wall, directly across from me, above the door. It is pink and blue, lovely for a room filled with heartbreak and uncertainties.

Someone is calling my name; well, both my names, actually.

_Daddy! Dad! Michael? Michael, are you all right? Dad! Daddy! Mister Michael? Are you ok?_

I blink and…

_Poof_…

All the sounds are back. Kids crying, murmurs coming from other parents, babies' monitors are beeping. Shouting… Who is that shouting?

It sounds like–… But no, because–…

_Caleb_…

"How _dare you_! _What_ is the matter with you?! That is your _child_ in there! How can you say those things about _your_ _child_?!"

It is mixture of voices, actually. Caleb's and… And Emilia? No. It is–… Elizabeth.

Sweet, sweet Elizabeth.

I shake my head, look around, my senses coming back to me. The place is in disarray. Emma has Gabriel in her arms. He is sobbing while his sister, Roz, has her face pressed Elijah's chest.

Oh, that's _right_.

My _wife_, the _mother of our fucking children_, called not one, but two, of our _babies_ "retarded".

James is still trying to talk to me, while Angus has two of his grandkids in his arms. Tristen and Jacob are helping Eli and Emma calm Roz and Gabe down.

And Emilia, sweet little, precious Emilia is trying to get my attention along with her dad.

"Mister Michael, are you ok?"

I blink… shake my head and… I bend down in front of Emilia.

"I'm…" I do not want to lie to her. She saw what happened. Heard what _my wife_ said. I decide to treat her with respect and not insult her intelligence. "No… No, I am not doing so well, 'Milia."

She nods, a look of understanding and… and _protectiveness_ in her big brown eyes.

"That wasn't very nice of your wife, Mister Michael. And I told her so! She shouldn't have said those things. Jenny is not hideous! Or-Or a-a-a… the… the _'r-word'_."

I smile sadly. Yeah, I think the same. And God, as much as I want to be – as much as _I am_ – pissed off at Sandra, I think… I think there is more going on.

I think maybe she is struggling with the babies being born early, with Jennifer's birthday being Lexie and Kevin's 1-year anniversary.

And as much I would like – and probably _will_ – scream and yell and fight with her, I am also going to book an appointment with a therapist.

"I agree, 'Milia. That was not very nice, and I am going to speak with her about it."

In fact, I decide to do it now, because if I wait, I will not get to say everything I would like to tell her.

"Tell ya'what, 'Millie," Her eyes light up at the new nickname. "Why don't you stay here, and I am going to speak to her about her behavior right now."

"Okay, Mister Michael! But, pease, will you make sure she knows that was very not nice behavior. You might need to put her in time-calm – that's what Mommy and Daddy call a timeout – so she can think about using nicer words next time."

The tension is cut with that. The seriousness in her voice is absolutely precious.

"I'll be sure to her that, 'Millie. Maybe she _does_ need to be put in _'calm-time'_."

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

I leave to do this. I find her outside with Elizabeth, who tells me that Caleb went down to the Cafeteria with her brother-in-law and his kids. I thank her and then I pull Sandra down the hall with me; she is fighting every step, but I am more pissed off, I am _stronger_. I pull her into what is, most likely, an on-call room.

She opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand, cutting her off, only feeling one, tiny _ounce_ of regret for hitting her earlier at seeing the light-red handprint on her cheek.

"You shut up. Not a _word_, I–…" Jesus, what am I to say? "I am so _fucking pissed off_ at you, Sandra."

Well, that is a good start, I guess.

"What–… You–… I–… What the _fuck_ were you thinking?! You–… Jesus Christ, Sandra, you just… You fucking called our child – _two of our children_ – retarded!"

That word, it is like _poison _on my lips. I hate it so much, with every ounce of my entire being. Maybe Emilia was on to something by simply calling it the _'r-word_'.

"Whether you like it or not, you are a mother to _all three_ of those babies in there. _You_ carried them for 7 months, _all three of them_. You, gave birth to them, _all fucking three of those babies_.

"Do you understand that, Sandra? Do you understand how you can't just–… You cannot–… It is not something you pick and choose! You can_not_ just say _oh, I love babies A, B, C, but I don't love X, Y, or Z_. Jennifer _is_ your child. Jennifer _is_ _your_ _daughter_! She is going to need to be loved _just as much as_ Juliet and Lucas! You have _triplets_, Sandra, _three babies_, not just another set of twins!"

My hands twist up into fists and…

"I think you should see someone." I try to remember what I was thinking in the NICU. That Sandy is just upset, but a little more than that, because it is stressful, the last several weeks have been _stressful_ for her. Two babies born 9 weeks early, 1 baby born 8 weeks early, on which was the 1-year anniversary our other daughter, Lexie's disappearance.

"I know that things have been tough lately."

I take calming breaths, just like I teach the kids to do.

"I know that this past year, so much has happened. Lexie disappeared, Caleb attempted suicide, all the-the times that we were organizing search parties an-and going on TV for Lexie and Keven, and then, now this… having _triplets_ born two months early."

She is closing off. I know she is. You cannot just be married to someone for nearly 13 years, and not be able to read them.

"But, Honey," I continue, stepping closer, reaching out, softening my body-language. Trying to get her to understand. "That is no excuse for the way you acted in that NICU. That is no excuse for calling not one, _but two_, of our kids a-a… a _retard_. That is unacceptable. And that is why…"

I steel myself. I know she is going to protest this from now until the day she dies, but…

"I am going to get in touch with Dr. Brooks to see if she recommends anyone. Then, we – you and I, because I think I need to talk about it, too, – we are going to go an-and talk about this past year. The stress Lexie and Kevin's disappearances have put on us, how we – how _you_, Sandra, – are coping with our Triplets being born prematurely, how you _still_ treat Cal, and how you are just, in general, very… well…"

I sigh.

"Just how you are feeling, ok? I think it would do us both some good."

Sandy looks at me. And I try, oh, how I try to see the woman I fell in love with all those years ago, when we met in our Junior year of high school. She says absolutely nothing. Not even a… She does not even roll her eyes, or huff a breath, or…

It throws me off.

And it makes it to where she shoves, – not gentle moves or brushing, but _shoves _– past me and out of the room.

It takes another 5 minutes before I knock myself from the stupor and leave the room, as well. I head back to the NICU. Sandy is nowhere in sight, but I brush away that thought and go over to comfort Gabriel. Seeing him still crying breaks my heart, as well as, reminds me _why_ he is upset.

And just like that, my anger towards Sandy returns.

I wish there was something I could do.

I wish I could turn back time. If I had _known_ – which I _should have_ – that Sandra was going to say those things, I would have never tried to convince her to leave the house with us this morning. I wish I could have foreseen this, but God, why would a person expect _their wife_ to say that?

I pick Gabriel up and I whisper in his ear how mommy was wrong. How he is, most certainly, _not_ nor will he _ever be_… _retarded_.

I promise him this, and I tell him I spoke to mommy, and that I am going to do it again, and I am going to keep on, until she apologizes for it. And I say I love him, oh, how I love him. He is my Little Buckaroo, and he is one of the most important persons in my life.

But… I don't think he is hearing it. And I don't know what else to do. I just…

How do you convince your child that the person they look up to, the one they _love with all of their heart_, did not mean it when she called them a… a _retard_?

* * *

**Well… I don't know what to say. This went in a completely different direction than what I had originally planned, but I feel like it was needed. I had to follow up with what she has been saying _about_ Jennifer with her saying it, essentially, _to_ Jen.**

**And, yes, you are all right. Sandy is a bad mother; the slapping, the name-calling, the way she treats the kids? That makes her a shit parent.**

**Michael is barely hanging on, as well. He is just… dealing with all this better than Sandy is. And he ****does speak to her in length in the next chapter about her behavior. Which I think is an important chapter.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! And please do not let Sandy's continued behavior deter you from reading/enjoying this story. I promise, starting in chapter 11 onwards, it will become less about Sandy/her behavior/treatment of the kids, to more about Jenny, Michael, and the kids' interactions. :)**


	11. The Ultimatum (July 11th, 1978)

**_11 – The Ultimatum_**

**ETA: Hey, guys. Sorry about that. Here is the next chapter.**

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including Doctors and extra siblings, cousins, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

**Notes: I decided to do another follow up to the last chapter. Michael, Elizabeth, James, and the kids are all home now. And Michael has made the decision to speak to Sandy about her behavior from earlier.**

**I am not sure when Postpartum Depression was first "discovered" or diagnosed. However, I feel that, being a doctor himself, and also the father of 8 children, Michael may know more about this than a father/mother in a different field of expertise. It is, however, still the late 70s, so I am going off how I ****_think_**** it may have been and not how it ****_actually_**** was.**

**This chapter contains language and topics that may not be suitable for children under 13.**

* * *

**_Tuesday, July 11th, 1978  
East Allegheny, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania_**

* * *

**_*5 hours later – 6:15 p.m. – Michael's point of view cont.*_**

When we arrive home, three of the kids are asleep. It is well after 6 in the afternoon. We spent the ride singing songs and playing _I Spy_, and it was honestly the most fun I have ever had during a long road trip.

The kids all ask to go to James and Elizabeth's house. None of them actually say it but I know it is because they do not want to be around Sandy right now. Not after what she did and said earlier this morning.

After making sure it is all right with them, I say yes to the sleepover. Besides, it is summer, and isn't summer _supposed to be_ about sleepovers with your friends?

While Liz and James stay in the Bus with their own kids and Roslyn and Emma, I go inside with the boys to help them pack. Eli and Caleb do their own, then help Gabe with his stuff.

They get enough pj's for several days, just in case, while I gather up several pairs of pj's, shirts, shorts for the girls, and Roz's and Em's toothbrushes, vitamins, etc.

I load the suitcases into the designated area of the Bus, then give everyone a goodnight hug and kiss, with a warning and reminder to be on their best behavior. I then watch them leave and just… stand here in this spot for several moments.

A late afternoon breeze comes through and it snaps me out of my thoughts. It really is a nice night – the sky is clear, it is no longer too hot, and that breeze cuts out the warmness that is still in the air.

Soon, the sky will turn from its current pinkish-purple to a clear dark blue color, littered with thousands of little stars.

This would have been a perfect night for Roz and me to sleep out under the stars.

Too bad my children _do not want to be home_ right now.

I sigh deeply. And then… I turn, walk up the driveway to our porch, and…

I go inside.

I head straight to the kitchen, where I know Sandra will be. And of course, she is there, drinking a glass of wine, and I wonder…

How many of those has she had? She left only an hour before we did, so she most likely arrived home for a little under two more hours ago.

"Hello, Michael."

The greeting stops me in my tracks. Did she just…? I was not expecting her to actually say anything. I mean, I thought it was going to be like earlier, in that on-call room, where _I _spoke, and she _pretended_ to listen.

"I need to speak with you," I tell her. Plain and simple. If she wants to listen – great. If not, well then… She does not have a choice, really.

"I am going to say some things and I would like it if you would please give me the respect of listening to what I have to say. Alright?"

She says nothing.

I continue anyway.

"I have noticed some things happening in the last couple of months. And I–… I need to talk to you about them…"

I forego sitting down knowing I would just be up a second later. Instead, I pace around, stopping here and there to speak. I start with the most important thing –

"Sandy, honey, I know that you might not realize it but… I know you are getting out of bed at night. And it is usually a long while before you return. You do not seem to be sleeping, babe, and I–… I would like to know that. If you are having trouble sleeping, or even if something else is wrong, I know that you… You may not be used to talking about your problems – you box them all up and try to forget all about them, but…"

She still is not speaking or even really reacting. And I am unsure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Is she waiting until I finish before says anything? Or is this going to be like earlier when she simply ignored me and walked away without responding?

"I've followed you a few times and, it will always be my biggest regret that I have not said something before now. That I left you, my _wife_, crying and hurting, while I just went back to bed. I am so, so sorry for that. Maybe the last week of your behavior could have been prevented if I had just _talked to you then_."

"Unfortunately, I cannot go back. I can only apologize and promise I will do better, and I will. I really will try my hardest, but I need you to do something for me also. Can you–… Will you please let me know the next time you are having trouble sleeping? Maybe… Maybe we can talk about what's keeping you up, or I could make you a cup of tea or something. So just… just let know, ok?"

I take the nodding as a good thing. I take it as a positive thing that will actually happen. And next, I move on to one of the other things I have noticed…

"I am hoping that this restlessness you seem to have is going to, well, that it is just because of the babies. I mean, I hate to think about something being wrong, I hate to think that you are upset, and that there would be nothing I could do to make it better."

"It is not fair, to you, that I can sleep through the night, while you may be suffering and upset. So please, just let me know ok? I would do anything for you; I hope you know that."

"There are some other things I would like to talk about, ok? Just–… You know, let me know if this gets to be too much, alright?"

"This is something that I actually noticed a month ago, when Lucas and Juliet were born, and since then. And I understand that having two babies born 9 weeks early is a lot to deal with, not to mention the _third_ baby you were still pregnant with. And believe me, I was so scared, too. I was _so_ terrified that I was going to lose my babies."

"But… I realized that, no matter how much it terrified _me_, it probably did more to _you_. Because _you_ were the one who actually _gave birth_ to them. And I had to push back all my feelings. My worries, my fears… I had to push back the urge to cry like a baby."

"I had to focus all my strength on helping you and the kids, and… Well, in doing that, I noticed that _you_ are not doing as well as I thought you were initially."

"You see, I have been… Well,… I do not know how to put this but… You seem to be upset a lot of the time and – before you say anything – I _know_ that what has happened in the last several weeks, well… you have _every right_ to be upset, but this seems… _more than_ that. You seem to…"

"It seems that, the little things upset you. Like earlier this week when you did not remember to put on a pot of coffee, you were so upset by it."

"I know that this is stressful time for you, ok? And I know that Emma gets it from you. And God knows I am not just talking about her looks. When she is upset, she lashes out. And, honey, you seem to be doing that also."

"Over the years, you have gotten much better. I know that, sometimes, you feel the kids are misbehaving, or they need to work harder, listen more, do this, do that."

I sigh.

"But other than the way you treat Caleb, and how you get on to Gabriel, you have gotten so much better. And it is still a work in progress – and I know that – but over the last few weeks, you have gotten exponentially worse. And I hate saying that, _God_, do I hate it. But it is the truth, and I love you enough to _tell you_ the truth, no matter how harsh."

"You yell at the kids, you-you cut Caleb down with your words and actions, and, honey, I know, – ok? – I _know_ that you are stressed out. But following up to an argument between Roslyn and Gabriel with threatening _everyone_ with "whipping their ass", or calling your child a _retard_, or…"

I don't want to finish that sentence. I don't fucking _want to_… But, I have to. I have to let her know it was not, nor is it ok for her to say those things.

"Fuck, Sandra, saying that Jennifer is not your daughter because she was – what? – born 8 weeks premature? Has a _cleft lip_? Will need hospital stays and surgeries and medications?"

My anger is coming back, and I try to dial it back some.

"That is not something that you should do. These mood swings you are having, where one moment you are letting Roslyn help you with the laundry, and the next you are scolding Caleb for playing too rough with his little brother…"

"These mood swings concern me, Sandy. I do not believe they are normal. You switch back and forth so much, and I am so, so sorry if it is because you feel you cannot talk to me. I do not want you to feel that, baby. I don't. Never in my life."

"You _can_ talk to me. Let me know if it really the kids who are aggravating you, or if you are, maybe, worried about the babies. I will come with you if you were to want to ask Dr. Jacobs some questions about the Triplets. I will hold your hand, and I will let you cry as much as you _need to_. Okay? I can be your rock. I am your husband, and that is my duty, is it not?"

I try to smile here, to show her I am being playful, that I am trying to get _her_ to smile.

"I mean, in my vows I promised you, for the rest of your life, that I would stick by you. I would hold your hand. I would let you cry. I would let you get all your pent-up anger out. So, if you need to shout or cuss or cry, or even if you just need me to sit beside you and do nothing but silently be supportive, then…"

I reach out to her at this point, pausing to cover hand with mine. I link our fingers and bring her hand to my mouth. I kiss it once… twice…

I try to convey my love for her in this moment. Try to… give her some sort of comfort so she, hopefully, does not feel as if I am ganging up on her with all of this information.

"I will do it. Okay? I promise." I sigh, long deep. And then say, "This next thing kind of ties in with the mood swings. It–… I–… Well… The irritability and your anger and… I get that you are probably worried, but, honey

, the kids are, too. I am, as well. We are all so very worried and terrified about what is to come."

"And, like I said, Em gets it from you. You both lash out when you are upset. You both hate to talk about your feelings, but Sandra, I cannot let it go on the way you are treating them. It is ok to be angry. It is ok to have days where everything in the world irritates the hell out of you. I support you on that. I get that way, too, sometimes."

"But–" I hold a hand to emphasize my next point. "I cannot allow you to keep taking it out on our children. Not on Caleb, not on Gabriel and, most certainly, _not on Jennifer_. I get it. Her lip looks horrifying. It is scary to think of all the things that _cleft lip_ means for the future. Feeding issues and speech problems. Surgeries and then more surgeries. Braces, and scars, and hospital visits, and…"

I trail off not wanting to make things worse than they already are.

"But, she is our daughter. So this anger you have, – this irritation you have, – that has multiplied in the last several weeks, Sandra, – listen, – I need you to direct it towards _me_, ok? Take your anger our on _me_."

I point towards myself, emphasizing my next point…

"Let the way _I_ leave the towel draped over the side of the tub instead of the shower curtain rod irritate you. Let the way _I_ always leave my coffee cup on the counter for the entire day piss you off. Let the way _I _fold t-shirts and pants and dishtowels get on your nerves…"

"But, please, Sandra, _please_ stop taking your anger and irritability out on the kids. Alright?"

I get another nod here. And she seems to really be taking in everything I am saying.

"One last thing, babe…"

I honestly do not know how to bring up this one without sounding insensitive. Or like a jerk or an asshole. Because the thing I want to talk about? Well, it may not even be relevant because right now, this is most likely the last thing on her mind.

But… I decide to just _go with it_. I am her husband and if it makes her upset, well, I did just say I wanted her to let me know when she was angry.

So…

Here I go…

"I have noticed that you have seemed to–… Well… I am unsure how to phrase this, so please, bear with me, ok? I hope this does not sound too, well, harsh, or really, the word I am looking for is insensitive, but, you know… Ok, I think I am rambling, so I am just going to say it, alright?"

A big sigh and then…

"I've noticed that you seem to have lost interests in the things you enjoyed doing before the Triplets were born. Like, watching Saturday cartoons with Roz, or kicking around a soccer ball with Eli, or even cooking with Gabriel and, sometimes, Caleb. But now, Honey, well… It's just that–… You see… You have not done that."

"You seem to have no energy anymore, baby, and it just worries me. Because I know you… You are a lively, always on the move, doing this or that, kind of person, – and again – I do not want to seem too insensitive."

"I know that having _three_ babies who are in the NICU right now, it may not exactly be easy to do the things you to do. But, you just seem to have no energy, and… And you have lost interest in doing the things you used to, and…"

"Is it because you are worried? Or that you have not been sleeping? Or is it something else? I really want to help, so please, just let me know. I will do everything in my power to make it better. I will, I promise. I want to help make things better, easier, less fearful or worrisome for you, baby."

I stop speaking here. I have pretty much said everything. Now, I just wait for my wife to say something… _anything_.

Has she noticed these things I have listed about herself, as well?

Is she aware of the fact that she seems to be more restless, angry, irritable? Does she understand that getting up at the same time every night can be counted as restlessness and difficulty falling/staying asleep?

I wait and wait… but after several minutes of complete silence, I say one last thing…

"Baby, I know you probably blame yourself, for the babies being born this early, for not being able to carrying them longer. But you carried them as long as you possible could. As we have experienced with Emma and Caleb, and then Roslyn and Gabriel, carrying multiples means that you may not make it to your due date. And, Sandy, you kept Jennifer in your womb for _1 week longer_ than Juliet and Lucas."

No response.

"I just want you to know that I do not blame you. The doctors do not blame you. You were amazingly strong, and you did everything you could for them and now, Honey, now it is the doctors' turn to help them grow and become stronger, until they are ready to come home."

Still no answer.

I heave a sigh, ending this one-sided conversation with,

"I am going to make an appointment for the kids with Dr. Brooks. And I am going to find someone for myself. I really need some help dealing with everything. It is just–… It's all very overwhelming, and I think I would really benefit from speaking to someone."

Still no fucking answer, or even a simple response. Why won't she just _answer me_? Or just say something – _anything_ at all?

"Would you… Is it…"

Is there really any point in saying this? Asking it?

"Is there any possibility that you would want to come with me? You do not even have to say anything at first if you are uncomfortable with it. Just be there, ya'know… Just getting a feel for maybe how it would go."

I stand from where I had taken a seat.

"I think it may be beneficial to our health, and our relationship, especially with the kids, if we were to seek out help; if we had somewhere we could talk about all of this stuff going on, with a professional that would know how to help with this particular set of problems."

_Nothing_.

I sigh. Shake my head. Turn towards the kitchen door.

"I want to say one last thing… At some point, you _will_ speak to someone. Whether this is a therapist for you, alone, or you and I together, or Family Counseling with the kids, it _will be _done. You can take your time, decide which one you'd like to do. And whether you would like to go right away and be able to sit quietly until you are comfortable speaking, or if you would simply like to _wait to go_ until you are comfortable speaking."

I stay facing away from her, saying, "Either way, you _will be_ going. Or, – and I am so sorry to say this, because I truly believe that part of your behavior may be out of your hands, – but… If you cannot choose one. If you cannot, yourself, help me help you in getting… well,… _better_… then I am going to do what is best for our children."

But here, I spin around. And I look at her, and I try to convey that I mean this with the most understanding and compassion as I possibly can…

"You have one of two choices here… Counseling, _getting help_, or… We can no longer be in a relationship with each other. I will still honor my vows. I will help you any way I can, and I will stick by you for as long as you allow me, but if you choose the second path, our marital relationship will be no more."

I pause here, and wait, and she stays silent, which is no surprise, but also I understand.

I did just basically threaten her with divorce, after all.

"Just let me know, ok, honey? I am going to go to the kids. They are spending the night with James and Elizabeth Prentiss, and I think they may like for me to come over. Would you like to join us?"

"No, thank you," Her voice actually startles me, as she had been silent practically this whole time. "I believe it would be better if I stayed home."

I do not question it. Just simply nod and head upstairs to pack a quick bag. A pair of pj's, my toothbrush and comb, my slippers, etc. Then, I head out to the Prentisses' house. The kids are absolutely thrilled to see me, and are so excited to show me what is, apparently, the _backyard movie theatre_.

We watch four movies, all _Drive-In Theatre_-style, with popcorn and paying for tickets and buying candy.

It is nice end to what was largely are not-so-good day.

* * *

**Okay, so there it is. I wanted to get this up now (the content) because everything Michael listed off (restlessness, mood swings, not sleeping, etc.) are part of a diagnosis that will be given later on. Can you guys figure out what it is? It is something that I have been thinking of for a while, and also I think it is absolutely something that Sandy would be diagnosed with after everything she and her family has experienced, especially in the last year.**

**While Michael wants to be a good husband, and help Sandy any way he can, he also has the obligation of being a good father to his 8 children. This ****is why Michael gave her the ultimatum. He is taking the initiative he needs to ensure his children's mental health is no longer being damaged.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! I would love to know your thoughts, and if you have any questions, concerns, comments, etc., please ask them in a review, and I will answer in a PM. With everything basically closed now due to the CoVid 19 virus, I have a lot of free time on my hands, so I will try to get into a good updating schedule.**

**Also, if you have any requests on what you would like to see or a certain character brought in, just let me know. I will bring in Emily's cousin, Benson, as soon as possible.**


	12. The Tape-Recordings – 1 & 2 (7-19-1978)

**_Chapter 12 – The Tape Recordings (#1 & #2)_**

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, cousins, and other family members, and the doctors, future teachers, etc.  
Spoilers:  
Rating: K+**

**Thank you to those who reviewed and/or read the last chapter! To _Daisyangel_, I am going to be doing a story called "Chronicles Snapshots". It will have tons of missing scenes and pieces from in-between these chapters, and it will also have Michael discussing that with a doctor. We will find out if Sandy has PPD or not. :)**

**Notes: This includes two tape-recordings that Caleb and Elijah each made for Jenny! Michael plays them for her… will it be enough for Jenny to start growing and getting better?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**1 week later – Wednesday, July 19th, 1978  
Jules & Luke are 3 weeks old, Jenny is 2 weeks old**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – Normal point of view*_**

Today is special day, and also, a not-so-special day. Michael was informed, not long after he and the kids arrived back at the Hospital, that Jennifer was diagnosed with not only an ear infection, but also pneumonia, earlier this morning.

To make matters worse, Lucas has also been diagnosed with pneumonia. This is sometimes expected for premature babies. After all, the earlier they are born, the more compromised their immune systems are. That is why people visiting the NICU have to be 110%, and not one bit less, disease-free.

But, even when there are tons of precautions put into place, even when people scrubs their hands, and wear gowns and gloves, and do not bring anything that could have germs on it…

Babies still get sick.

Dr. Jacobs has explained that the type of pneumonia Luke and Jenny have is called _late onset pneumonia_. This is the opposite of _early onset pneumonia_, which shows up within the first week or less of a baby's birth. Luke and Jenny have _late onset_, as this showed up within 28 days of their birth.

They both have symptoms that are opposite each other. Which goes to show that the saying _no two NICU babies are alike_ is true. Luke has a high temperature while Jenny's has dropped. She is taking more feeds while Luke is taking less. Jenny has apnea, – problems with breathing, – while Lucas does not.

They are being treated with the right medicine and intervention, and, while it is slower than JJ, Lucas is the one making better progress.

There is hope, just like with any parent and their sick babies, that Jenny starts _making more progress_. Michael needs that to happen… Eli and Emma and Gabe and Roz and Caleb _need that to happen_.

Michael decides that he is going to play the tape-recording that his son, Caleb, made for Jennifer. Maybe that will help her, hearing her big brother's voice. Knowing that she has family who are cheering her on…

Caleb is working on making ones for Juliet and Lucas, since he wants each baby to have a personalized tape. Michael is so proud of him for doing this. He worked very hard on doing it and is excited and little anxious to play it for his baby sister.

Once it is sanitized, to make sure no germs are on the little device, Michael takes it to Jennifer's cot, sets it by the open circle hole, and presses _'play'_.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

_Caleb begins speaking on the tape…_

_"Hi, Jennifer. My name is Caleb, and I am your big brother. Well, actually, I am your oldest brother. Right now, it is July nineteenth. I have worked very hard on this tape and I finally finished it today, that is why it was made 15 days after you were born._

_"You were born on July fourth, which I am sure you are going to have some fun birthday parties when you are older. What kid wouldn't want fireworks, cake, presents, and ice cream all on one day?"_

_"You were a part of a special group called 'Triplets'. Your brother and sister, Lucas and Juliet, were born 1 week before you were."_

_"I am 11 years old right now, and I am so happy to get to be a big brother again. Being the oldest is special because it means I get to teach all of you things to do. I love you so much already, Jennifer, and I hope you never question that."_

_"Since you were born so early, at 8 weeks, which is two months, you are very tiny right now. Daddy, – you are going to love him when you finally can focus on him with your eyes, – says you are 13 ½ inches long. That is very, very tiny. And you are only 1.9 lbs. in weight."_

_"I need you to do me a favor, ok, Jenny? I need you to start growing. And to start gaining weight. Because–…" Caleb's voice cracks here. "Because I love you so much, and I need my baby sister – both of my baby sisters – to come home. I have so much I want to teach you. So many things that I want to do with you…"_

_He sniffles and the sound of him taking a deep breath crackles out of the recorder._

_"I am going to sing you a song, ok? Daddy sang it to me when I was a baby, and it is one of my favorite songs. I hope you like it, as well."_

_A guitar begins to play. It is a simple tune and it makes Michael smile as he recognizes it immediately. A family favorite, you could say. One that has been sung to children for generations, and one that he, himself, sang to nearly all of his kids._

_"Somewhere over the rainbow  
way up high  
There's a land that I heard of  
Once in a lullaby.  
Somewhere over the rainbow  
Skies are blue,  
And the dreams that you dare to dream  
Really do come true."_

_"Someday I'll wish upon star  
And wake up where the clouds are far  
Behind me.  
Where troubles melt like lemon drops  
Away above the chimney tops  
That's where you'll find me."_

_"Somewhere over the rainbow  
Bluebirds fly.  
Birds fly over the rainbow.  
Why then, oh why can't I?"_

_"If happy little bluebirds fly  
Why, oh why can't I?"_

_Caleb strums the guitar strings for a few moments longer, drawing it out to be a soft, fading sound._

Michael simply smiles at his son. He is so proud of him, and the tape was very lovely. He encourages Caleb to do more, and the more he speaks about it, the more that Caleb is actually looking forward to going home so he can start the next tape.

* * *

_**2 weeks later – Thursday, August 3rd, 1978  
Jules & Luke are 5 weeks old, Jenny is 4 weeks old**_

* * *

**_*Philly Children's Hospital – normal point of view*_**

Today is the day!

After listening to Caleb's tape-recording a couple of weeks ago, the other kids decided they wanted to one also. Elijah made a tape himself.

Also, today is the first time in several weeks that not all the kids got to come. Roz and Gabe had gone to sleepover a few days ago with some friends and ended up catching some kind of stomach bug.

Michael hates it but he had to tell them that they had to stay home. He dropped them off at his parents' house because he is unsure of leaving them with Sandy. Since Sandy came that day a couple of weeks ago, Michael has been trying to get her to come see the new Therapist with him.

The Doctor's name is Susanna Oliver. She specializes in helping families who have had children born prematurely, have been hospitalized for a long time, have illnesses that are lifelong, etc. Michael has found that talking with her has helped tremendously.

He has been given skills to work through his anger, worry, fear, and anxieties of having three babies who are premature, and also how to balance going to work, being with his older children, and even how to help Emma, Caleb, Eli, Roz, and Gabe to process the life-changing things that have happened.

Michael is, however, having trouble trying to get Sandy to come with him. He has had about four sessions already, and he has not gotten her to come with him once. He is getting incredible frustrated because, as much as he loves her, he _needs her_ to understand that her attitude and behavior is unacceptable.

She is no longer speaking to the kids, well, at least, _not much_. Caleb is still mad at her, as is Gabe, even if they are both Mama's Boys. Sandy has not yet apologized for what she said about Jennifer and Gabriel. And Caleb is mad because of that, and also because she seems to not even understand _why_ it was _wrong_ in _the first place_.

Emma is getting in trouble at home, as well. She has been grounded for two weeks this time. She is picking on Gabe, starting arguments with Caleb, messing with Elijah.

She is worried and frustrated, herself, and her anxiety is through the roof because it has been a month since Jennifer was born, and she is still _not growing_, and that has worried Emma to the point of not sleeping and being irritable and being annoying to her siblings.

Elijah is a trooper. He seems to be understanding more as far as the medical stuff goes. But, he is still only 10 years old. He is still a little boy who is terrified that he is going to lose one, or more, of his baby siblings, and he finally broke down yesterday, getting into an all-out screaming match with Emma, Sandy, and even Roslyn.

Michael broke it up. He told the kids to go cool off. He scolded his wife for being _such a goddamn bitch. What is the matter with you, Sandra?!_

He then went to speak to each of the kids. Elijah was first, because he is _not_ usual one to get in trouble. Eli shouted at him, but Michael just let him. He let Eli get out all of his anger.

"I wish the babies had never been born!" Elijah had shouted. "I wish Lexie had never gone missing! I wish Mom was not such a bitch! Why does she have to be so mean to Bubba Caleb? Why?! It wasn't his fault Lexie and Kevin were taken!"

"Why can't she understand that?! Why can't she _understand_ that just because Juliet and Lucas and Jennifer were born early, that does _not_ mean they are going to be _fucking retarded_?!"

Usually, Michael would scold him about the swearing, but this was the most emotions beside happy or, well, sort of relaxed that Elijah had shown in… well… quite some time.

He realized, beating himself up internally, that he never actually saw Elijah coping with Lexie's disappearance. He was so focused on finding her, on organizing search parties, going on the TV, then dealing with Caleb and his suicide attempt that…

That he never even sat down to talk to his little boy about it.

"It's not fair, Daddy!" He continued to shout. "It isn't _fair_!"

At this point, Michael had him wrapped in his arms, gently shushing him. His heart broke as his little boy, normally so strong and a rock for his siblings, finally broke down about all the turmoil and troubles and _every_ _fucking thing_ that had happened in the past year.

Once Elijah was calmed down, Michael made the suggestion of him coming along to see Dr. Oliver. If he wanted to, that is. He said that she had helped him, and it might do some good for Eli to talk to, well, a professional about everything.

Elijah agreed. He was tired of pretending. He was tired of smiling and laughing and being the one who cheered up his siblings instead of being the one who was comforted.

After Michael had left his room, he went to the girls' bedroom, where Emma and Roslyn were. The two girls were on opposite sides of the bedroom, facing away from one another. He went in and did what he had done with Elijah.

Roslyn was the first to break, being the youngest and a Daddy's Girl. She cried to him that she was having bad dreams, where the doctor would call and tell Michael and Sandy that the babies were dead. She said she was scared that, one of the days when she was not there, the babies would die, and she would not get to say goodbye.

Surprisingly, it was not Michael that comforted her, but Emma. As he watched his oldest daughter scoop her little sister up into her arms he realized…

Maybe they should _all_ be going to see Dr. Oliver or back to Dr. Brooks. They need to all sit down with Dr. Jacobs, the Triplets' doctor, and they need to tell them everything that is going on. None of it should be left out, even if he thinks Roslyn and Gabriel are too young.

He knew that Emma was worried. He did not even have to say anything to her at that point because he just… _knew_.

So, it was decided. After they see the babies today, he is going to take Emma, Eli, and Caleb to see Dr. Oliver with him. Then, once Roz and Gabe are feeling better, he will take them.

He is going to give Sandy an ultimatum. Either she comes with them, or they need to go to Couple's Counseling. Either way, she _will be_ going to see a therapist, whether she wants to or not.

He loves her with all of his heart, and seeing her like this, seeing her become a shell of the woman she once was… It breaks his heart. And he knows that, with the right _type_ of counseling, she will be able to get back on track.

To become the woman he fell in love with years ago. And to become the mother that she needs to be to her children.

_**:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/**_

Today is a good day. Today, Michael was informed that both Lucas's, as well as Jennifer's pneumonia has cleared up. They are no longer on the antibiotics needed, and Jennifer's ear infection was officially declared "cleared up" at Morning Rounds, around 5:30–6:00 a.m. this morning.

"They both were troopers," Dr. Jacobs tells Michael. "It is hard for adults and children to have pneumonia, having to take the medicine, rest, keeping a lower activity schedule. But add in being a preemie, and that can make it all the more miserable. However, your babies whizzed through that medicine like it was nothing. You should be very proud, Michael."

And he is. He is so, _so_ proud. The older kids were happy; Emilia was ecstatic, as well. Even Liz and James were happy about their Honorary Niece's and Nephew's recovery.

So, Michael decides, today is going to continue to be a good day. While they have their appointments this afternoon, right now, he is going to focus on keeping the mood light and fun.

Once again, Dr. Jacobs disinfect the device, and then Michael is allowed to play it for his daughter.

_**:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/**_

_Elijah begins speaking…_

_"Hi, Jenny! You don't know me yet, but I am one of your other big brothers. My name is Elijah, and I am 10 years old. I love you so much. I can't wait until you can come home. I am going to do so many things with you. I will rock you to sleep, and give you your bottle, and I will try my best to be the best big brother I can be."_

_"I am making this tape only for you, right now. I am going to do your Triplet sister and brother – that is Juliet's and Lucas's – tapes next, so Daddy can play it for them. But Bubba Caleb did one only for you, to make it more personalized – that means, it is made special for only you, – so I decided I am going to that, also."_

_"When you are old enough, I am going to teach you how to play soccer. Your big sister, – the one who is only 6 years older than you, Roz, – likes to play soccer, too. And when you are big enough, you and me and her can go outside or to the park and play with the soccer ball all we want!"_

_"For now, though, I am going to sing you some songs. They are just little Nursery Rhymes. Here is the first one; it is called _'Hey, Diddle, Diddle.'_"_

_"Hey, Diddle, Diddle,  
The cat played the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon.  
The little dog laughed to see such sport,  
And the dish ran away with the spoon."_

_"The next one is called_ 'Hickory Dickory Doc.'_ It is a shorter one."_

_"Hickory Dickory Doc,  
The mouse ran up the clock.  
The clock struck twelve, the mouse ran down,  
Hickory Dickory Doc."_

_"Two more and then I will be done, ok? I think I'll do more next time if you like these! This is a fun one. It called _'Rain, Rain Go Away'_"_

_"Rain, rain, go away,  
Come again some other day.  
Daddy wants to play.  
Rain, rain go away."_

_"Rain, rain, go away,  
Come again some other day.  
Brother wants to play.  
Rain, rain go away."_

_"Rain, rain, go away,  
Come again some other day.  
Sister wants to play.  
Rain, rain go away."_

_"The last one is called, _'It's Raining, It's Pouring'_. It is kind of like the one I just did. It is super short also. I think it would probably be easiest for you to learn, if you want!"_

_"It's raining, it's pouring,  
The old man is snoring.  
He went to bed and bumped his head,  
And couldn't get up in the morning."_

_"Well, that is all of them. I hope you start to grow soon, Jenny. I would really love it if you could come home. I can't wait to show you all the fun stuff we can do, or everything that I will teach you. I just know that you are going to love being apart of this family. You have so many people who love you, so please start getting bigger, ok?"_

* * *

**And there it is! I wanted to show a bit more of the older kids and their thoughts about the babies. Next up is going to be 3 weeks later, and the next several will be rated M.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought!**

****IMPORTANT!** So, I have something that is very important for you all to answer – are you enjoying how slow the story is going? Would you like me to do larger timeskips OR are you okay with the day-to-day that I am doing?**

**The reason I am asking is because I need to know for the future chapters I am writing. I am currently writing chapter 22, and really need to know how you are liking the pacing of this story. Do I need to go faster? Slow down? Speed up just teensy bit? Or keep it as it is? Please answer so I am able to continue writing, thank you! :)**


	13. The Good News & The Bad News (8-26-1978)

_**Chapter 13 – The Good News & The Bad News**_

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, cousins, and other family members, and the doctors, future teachers, etc.**  
**Spoilers: None**  
**Rating: M**

**Thank you to those who reviewed, and welcome to _sweetkid45_, who is a new reader. I hope you are enjoying the story. Emily has actually already entered, she is just "Emilia" in this one. :) Welcome, also, to my new follower _sweetkid45 (favoriter)_, and my new favoriters _Sminer_ and _femmefatale__95_.**

**Most of you are good with the current pace, which I am happy about. I love writing this story and taking it one day at a time. :) The story will be slow for the next several ones as a major event takes place, and #17 will be a much bigger timeskip, as well as chapters 18-20.**

**Trigger Warning: This deals with a premature baby, sickness, and possible death. Please read with caution. Marked as the entire chapter. This is now rated M until otherwise stated.**

* * *

_**3 weeks later – Saturday, August 26th, 1978 (11:30 a.m.)  
Jules & Luke are 8 weeks old, Jenny is 7 weeks old**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – NICU – Michael's point of view*_**

I can't believe it. Dr. Jacobs called and told me that he had some, for the first time in two months, _good news_. I feel like I am on Cloud 9 as I enter the NICU. Dr. Jacobs is here, speaking to another couple, as are Elizabeth, James, Emilia, and Malachi.

"Hi, Mister Michael!" Emilia skips over to me and holds her arms out as a silent question of, _may I hug you?_ I hold my own arms out and she runs into them.

"Hello, 'Millie. How are you today?"

"I'm great! And do you wanna know why?"

I bet it has something to do with the fact that her two sisters are wearing miniature versions of a High School or College graduation cap and gown, but I ask anyway because I can just tell that she is _very_ excited to tell me.

"Sure, 'Millie, I would love to know."

She bounces on her heels, practically buzzing with excitement, and gestures to her parents and her baby sisters.

"Claire and Gracie are gwaduating! They get go–… Um… They be in**_–_**… Uh…" I can tell she is getting frustrated. I just smile and remind her it is ok. She takes a deep breath, seeming to be putting the words together in her head, before finding saying, "They be in Nursery now!"

I notice it there, too. Sometimes, Emilia has trouble putting together a sentence, either making it sound correct, or knowing which words go where. Elizabeth and James have told me that it is because English is not her first language. She had been speaking, and is fluent in, several languages before they made the move here, to the United States.

I smile at her enthusiasm. This is amazing. I have come to know Claire and Grace very well over the last 6 weeks. And I know how much Emilia was hoping that they would grow big enough and be strong enough to be able to "graduate" from the NICU.

Next to being told a parent can take their baby home, graduating from NICU is the next best thing.

"That is wonderful, Emilia! I am so happy for you and your parents." I decide to wait until after their little graduation "party" to hear what Dr. Jacobs has to say about the Triplets.

"Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen of the NICU," Nurse Jo calls out to the entire room as two other doctors get Grace and Claire Prentiss's cots ready to roll out. "We are gathered here today to give a farewell to two of our babies: Claire Prentiss, and her sister, Grace Danielle Prentiss!"

A smile takes over my face as I hear not only Grace and Claire's family cheering, but everyone else, as well.

In here, in the NICU, we are all family. It not just blood relatives who celebrate the small milestones, like keeping their temperature stabilized or upping their feeding dose. We all celebrate the big things, like graduating, _getting_ _to leave_…

We celebrate all those together because, in here, these people, we are the only ones who could ever understand what it is like having a baby in this part of the hospital. We are the ones that fully, 100% _get it_. The worries, the tears, the heartache… and the pure elation of our babies _getting bigger and healthier_.

I go over to James and hold out a hand.

"Hey, man, congrats! I am so happy for you." He takes my hand and we do a "guy" hug. He has tears in his eyes and a smile of happiness that looks permanent on his face. "I really, _really_ am happy for you."

Looking around, I hope that, one day soon, it will be myself and the Triplets that these people are cheering and celebrating for.

"Everyone, if you would follow us, you can go to the bin outside the door, and pick out a confetti popper."

Of course, this gets the attention of every child in this room. We all head outside and… there are even _more_ people out here. Everyone gets a confetti popper and a horn to blow.

"On three! 1… 2… 3!"

As Grace and Claire are wheeled out of the NICU doors, everyone pops their confetti and blows a horn.

People start singing and dancing in a line going down the hallway, while following the Nurses who are pushing Claire's and Grace's beds. I can't seem to stop smiling; it is just… This is _amazing_. It really is. I love how enthusiastic everyone is, even the other families, nurses, and doctors.

As we walk down the hall to the "regular" Nursery, I hear a few shouts from one of the rooms we pass… "Congrats!" and "Mom, look!"

We, meaning _everyone_, follow them all the way to the regular Nursery. Elizabeth, James, and their kids go inside while everybody else eventually tapers off to go back to what they were doing before. I wait until they are back outside before I continuing speaking to Emilia.

"'Millie, I have a question for you…"

Her eyes twinkle at this, "Ooh… What is it, Misser Michael?"

"Well, today was a special day because your sisters graduated the NICU, but… Do you know _what else_ makes this a special and great day?"

I bend down in front of her as her eyes widen, and she whispers, "What?"

"Dr. Jacobs called me with some good news about _my_ babies. Would you like to stay and hear what he has to say?"

Emilia lights up even more, if that is possible, and nods her head.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

We heard back to the NICU, wash up, change our gowns, and go inside. I call to Dr. Jacobs that we are ready, and he comes over, _happy_, smiling.

"Good morning, Michael! I hope you are well."

"I am, Doctor. You said you had some news?"

"Ah, yes," He nods. "Some _very good_ news." He gestures to my first daughter's bed, which, I _didn't even notice_, but it is an open bed now. Which means…

"Juliet is officially able to keep her temperature up to the right degree, _without_ the help of warming lights. She is now in an open bed, and if you would like, when we finish here, we could get you set up in a chair to hold her…"

My breath catches in my throat at that. I… Before now, I was only able to touch them, but now…

Now I get to _hold_ my baby girl.

I nod, too choked up to say any actual words. I feel, more than hear, Emilia react, as she presses her face again my stomach to quieten her squeals. I look down at her, see the same happiness in her big brown eyes, and I place a hand to the back of her head, hugging her.

"One more thing about Juliet," The Doctor is saying. He kind of pauses, smiles, _beams_, laughing out a breath, and saying, "She has gained a full 9 ounces, and also grown 1 and ½ inches. Juliet is now 2.8 pounds in weight and 17 inches long."

"That's so much!" Emilia gasps.

I look to Juliet, and yeah, she _does_ look bigger and longer, and her skin is a pretty pink. She has her eyes open and I look into them. Big and… bluish-green. Just like her big brother, Caleb, had. His is now a dark forest green. I wonder if Juliet's will stay blueish-green, change to green like Caleb's eyes, or if her eyes will darken to brown as her other siblings' have.

"Hello, _Ladybug_," I whisper. "Daddy is so proud of you. You have done such a good job at growing. Keep up the good work, babygirl, and soon, you will get to come home and see all your big brothers and big sisters."

Dr. Jacobs waits patiently before continuing.

"I just want you to know, barring any illness in the upcoming month or two, if Juliet continues to grow like this, and hits 4 pounds, she can graduate herself to the regular Nursery. She will then be there until she can pass the "carseat test", at which time, you will officially be able to take her home."

I laugh at this, completely and utterly overjoyed.

"You hear that, babygirl? 4 pounds is the goal here. Just 1 pound and 2 more ounces to go."

After several more moments, we move over to Lucas's bed. Again, the Doctor looks as if he can hardly contain his excitement. It does not seem unprofessional, though; more, it makes it better for _me_, because I know that he would genuinely not be this way if it was bad news of any kind.

"Here we have your son, Lucas. Lucas is… Lucas is the one whom I am most proud. He gained an entire 1 pound, 4 ounces, and has also grown 1 and ½ inches. He is officially 2.12 pounds, which is 4 ounces _more than_ Juliet, and he is 16 ½ inches in length."

There is just enough time for Emilia to squeal before he is continuing, "And, he is able to tolerate small lengths of time outside of his warming incubator. You can hold him also, if you would like."

I swallow down my tears as I smile, shaky at first, but with a happiness that I have not felt in several months. I did not think this time would come. I could honestly _not_ see my babies growing enough that their outlook would begin to seem… brighter.

"I am so proud of you, baby." I whisper to my son. "You show Sissy who the real boss here, ok? Keep growing, Mister. I know a lot of little girls and little boys who would love to see you come home to them."

Emilia suddenly tugs on my shirt and I look at her, noticing the light in her eyes has dimmed. She silently points to the third bed. The one that holds my second, and youngest triplet daughter, Jennifer.

I feel my heart drop as I realize… Jennifer was not included in the message I received earlier, when Dr. Jacobs had called and told me he had good news.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I just nod. I nod and…

And I straighten up, steeling myself, taking a deep breath. I see James and Liz move in to my peripheral vision, probably to take Emilia so I can have privacy with the doctor, but I just shake my head at them, and I place my hand back on this little girl's head, and I try to give her the comfort that I know she will need in about 30 seconds…

She huddles closer to me. I nod to David.

He solemnly says, "Jennifer is not growing like she should be. She is not gaining weight, nor she is not able to take bigger feeds. This is the third ear infection she has had in the last month, as well as the pneumonia she was diagnosed with again earlier this week, which makes for the second time in two months."

Dr. Jacobs falters here, opening and shutting his mouth a couple of times, seeming to be a loss for words.

Finally, he sighs long and deeply, saying, "Do you remember what I told you, yesterday, over the phone?" I say nothing. I just nod once, and Dr. Jacobs looks away, seeming to have to… compose himself.

"We have officially diagnosed her with _sepsis,_ Michael," I have to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out; to keep from grabbing him by the shoulders and demanding he do something – _anything_ – to fix my baby girl.

He sighs. "We are–… We are doing everything we possibly could but, Michael, I am so sorry to tell you… I am not sure there is anything more we can do. I think you and your wife should come in, and–… Because we need to have the conversation now. Ok?"

Emilia is the first to break. I feel her press her face against my stomach at the same time tears slide down my cheeks.

I instantly pick her up, and I hold her, and I try to comfort her as much as I can. I know she had become particular attached to Jennifer, and this is probably as devastating to her as it is to me, and will be, to my family.

David tells me that he will give us a moment.

"Oh, Michael…"

It's Elizabeth. She steps closer and looks torn.

"I am so, so sorry."

I say nothing. Just sitting in one of the rocking chairs. I rock Emilia, even though she is 8 and probably too old for it. I think I need it as much as she does.

It is silent for a very long time. I make the unconscious movement of rocking the chair, and rubbing Emilia's back. The only sounds are the clock ticking, the baby monitors keep check on their vitals, the light music that is always playing over the speakers. Even the other parents and kids have quietened down, as if they are… doing it out of respect for the news that just turned my world upside down.

I hear Emilia sniffle, and she whispers, "I'm gonna miss Jenny, Misser Michael. Maybe–… Maybe the Angels… need her more than… do… we. She can play with Lexie and Stephanie. I bet they like to have a sister."

At those words, I wonder how she is so strong. How this 8-year-old tiny little girl can find the silver lining in just about anything, even after everything her family has been through.

"I'm sure she would love to play with your brothers, as well." I whisper back and the only response from her is take my hand and just squeeze it.

And for now, we just sit there.

Trying to come to terms with the fact that we might very well have to say goodbye to this baby girl who has stolen all of our hearts.

* * *

**_East Allegheny, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania_**

* * *

**_*Michael's point of view cont. _**–**_ 5 hours later, in East Allegheny*_**

After I leave the Hospital, I drive home, making a stop at the house to pick up Sandy before we go to my parents' house. They live in Philly, but their house here in Pittsburgh is just so they are closer to us, instead of being 5 hours away in Philadelphia.

We park, go to the door, knock, and then enter. I am so glad my sisters are with our grandparents for the day. I don't think I could stand to tell them about Jennifer.

My mom picks up on something being wrong immediately.

"Michael, honey, what's wrong?" She gently touches my cheek. "You've been crying, haven't you?"

"Mom… I need to speak with you and Dad."

I say nothing more. I probably would be unable to.

My mom says nothing, as well. She just calls out to my Dad, who comes up from the basement, where he most likely was with the kids. She tells him to tell the kids to stay down there until we call for them. Dad comes up and looks cheerful for all of 30 seconds before he takes a good look at my face…

"Michael, what has happened?"

I try to say it without breaking down. Try to keep my emotions in check… I have to squeeze my eyes shut, take big gulping breaths, and…

I say it.

I say it as quickly as I possibly can so there is no time for my brain to catch up and process and then break down…

"The doctors are saying there is nothing else they can do for Jennifer. They say it is time we let her go. She is not growing as she should, and this is the second time in a month that she has had pneumonia, and now with the sepsis… At this point, the medicines and machines are doing nothing but prolonging what's inevitable."

The reactions do not happen right away, even for myself. I am actually surprised. It takes several moments, and, in my head, I seem to go through several thoughts before one cements itself into my brain, and it plays on an endless loop…

_My baby is going to die. We are going to have yet another funeral. Why us? Why does this always happen to us?_

"Daddy…?"

The sound jolts us all and I spin around, seeing my middle daughter – Roslyn – at the top of the basement staircase.

"Roslyn Grace! Your Grandfather told you to stay in the basement, Young Lady!"

I do a combination of sighing and rolling my eyes at my wife. Honestly, this is just getting old.

"Hush, Sandra!"

Walking over to Roz, I bend down. "What did you need, Little Rosepetal?"

"I'm thirsty, Daddy, but… But why were you saying that 'bout Jenny? Why–… Why were you–…," Her bottom lip trembles. "What does pro-pro-lunging the in-in-edda-bull mean, Daddy?"

I try not to let her see the tears in my eyes, I honestly really, really do but… She sees them anyway. I know she does because she uses her thumb to brush them away as they fall, just as I do when she is crying.

"Come on, Little Rosepetal," I pick her up. "Let's go get your sisters and brothers; we have something we need to tell you all."

"But– But I can still have some juice, right, Daddy? 'Cause I'm thirsty, ya'know."

"I'll get you some, _Pumpkin_. Apple juice, right?" My dad says.

"Yes, Sabba."

Once that is sorted out, we go back down the stairs. The kids are spread out – watching tv, playing games, building with Legos.

I call out, "Hey!" and they perk up at seeing me, rushing to greet me, asking questions, wanting to show me things, but I just hold up a hand, saying, "Everyone, I need you to please come upstairs. We – the grownups – have something we need to discuss with you."

This immediately dampens their mood. Emma looks worried, and I know she has probably picked on the fact that this "discussion" will not be a happy one.

She may have trouble with her communication, the output, that is, like starting a conversation, keeping it going, but her _input_ perception is perfectly fine. She can pick up on social cues much better than she can send them out or act on them.

We all go back upstairs. Gabriel runs to Sandy while Emma sits close to me at the table. Elijah and Caleb gather around their grandparents, and Roslyn stays in my lap, now with her little cup of apple juice that my dad gave her.

"What's going on?"

Elijah is the one to ask after it is quite obvious that we are not going to say anything. Caleb continues with, "Is it about the Triplets? I thought you said everything was fine?"

I swallow around the lump that is suddenly in my throat. I look, first, to my dad. I look to him for an answer, some way, somehow, for him to make this better. Why does this have to happen to us? Why _my _family? What I am doing wrong that keeps leading to _my family_ being punished?

This is not _fair_. Three siblings, _three_ of them. My babies have had to say goodbye to, what they think, was only two. But Sandy and I had a miscarriage at the age of 15 and 16, before Emma and Caleb were born. It would have been a little boy; at least, I _think_ it would have been.

We named him Jeremiah Michael Jareau – JJ. Fitting for a baby boy. Then, just four years ago, we lost Stephanie, born sleeping just minutes after her twin sister. And last year, well, we lost Lexie. And _God_, do I hope she is dead.

I know that sounds awful, but hoping she is dead is better than thinking about what the person who took her is probably doing to her. How terrified she must be, all this time later, wondering if her mommy and daddy are looking for her, when we are going to find her, if we still care about or love her.

Now… do you see why it's best that she simply not be… _here_… anymore? If she is an Angel, she will get to meet her twin sister, Stephanie, and her big brother, Jeremiah.

Even after all of that, we have to say goodbye to yet another baby. Emilia was right, though – she is going to have a big brother and two big sisters to play with, not to mention the two aunts, which are the two little girls born between my little brother, Jackson, and my little sister, Cynthia.

"Daddy?"

Emma whispers it and her voice _breaks my heart_. I look into her brown eyes, into the face that mirrors my own.

"One of them is gonna die, aren't they?"

I inhale deeply, nodding my head, not trusting my voice.

"Who?"

"Jennifer. It's Jennifer. The doctors, they–… They said there is nothing else we can. I am so, _so sorry_. I wish this did not keep happening to us; I wish I could promise you all, without a doubt, that all three babies would be able to come home, but I can't. I just can't. And I am so sorry. She just is not growing. She is getting older, but she is not getting bigger. I'm… I'm sorry."

A clatter to my left pulls me away, and I look to see Caleb has stood up so hard and fast that his chair was knocked back. He ignores it, instead, storming out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and, I'm guessing, into the bedroom he has here, as I hear the door slam shut.

Sandra opens her mouth, undoubtedly to yell out and reprimand him, but I cut her off with a sharp, "_Shut it_, Sandra!" And she snaps her mouth closed, although I can tell that she will almost certainly be on his case about it later.

Roslyn slides out of my lap the moment her big brother stomps up the stairs and runs after him with Emma and, of course, Gabriel following. Elijah just stays seated.

"Why can't they give Jenny medicine to make her grow?" My heart aches at the simplicity of the question, the innocence of it. "They're doctors who do this for a living! So why can't they take that medicine and give to Jenny, and make her grow?"

I'm up and around the table, taking him in my arms before he even finishes speaking.

"I don't want her to die, Daddy… I don't want to have to say goodbye to another sister."

I can do nothing but… Just simply hold him. I look to my mom and dad. Right now, I feel like a little kid who needs his mommy and daddy to make things better. To say it will be ok.

Why can't I go back to that time? When the only worries I had were about the Boogey-Man being in the closet.

Elijah tightens his own grip on me, and I just rub his back, making _shh_ noises because right now, right now there is not one thing that I can say to make this situation better.

Right now,… I can't be the dad who says _it's ok_ and mean it wholeheartedly.

* * *

**So… the following chapters will be about everyone saying goodbye to Jennifer. I am marking the next several chapters as ****_M_**** due to the content becoming less reader friendly. The next chapter will be up on the eighth.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :) Any f****uture ideas you would like to see, or a specific event, character, etc., just let me know. And I will be bringing in Benson (Em's cousin) as soon as possible.**

**Next: The Fight (a follow up chapter to this, on Sunday moring with the Jareau kids)  
Then: a 3-part "Forever Goodbye"  
**


	14. The Fight (August 27th, 1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, cousins, and other family members, and the doctors, future teachers, etc.**  
**Spoilers: None**  
**Rating: M - until further notice. Angst warning.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed! I really appreciate it. ****To _Kensi1997_, don't worry! This story cannot continue if JJ dies. ;) But we are dealing with preemie babies. To _Daisyangel_ and _Bohogal1998_, yeah, that was the kind of reaction I was going for, lol.**** And for _sweetkid45_, I hope you decide to give it one more chance, and end up enjoying it. I promise nothing bad will actually happen. :)**

**Notes: Please remember that Emma is NOT a bad child. She is an 11-year-old little girl dealing with stress, and grownup worries and fear as best she can. ****I want to get through the next several chapters and move on to happier ones, so I will update several times in the next couple of weeks.**

**Also, this chapter is _Daisyangel_, who requested to see more of the little kids. Not exactly a happy chapter, but it does have Gabriel, Emma, Caleb, and a little bit with Roslyn! :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_Sunday, August 27th, 1978_**

* * *

**_*Jareau Residence*_**

It starts on Sunday morning. Right after the boys wake up.

Emma is back to being "on edge", which is what everyone calls her mood when she is anything other than happy, content, or neutral.

Michael has just gave up on grounding her whenever she does something to upset someone else. Instead, when he and Sandy head to the Hospital in Philly, they are going to bring Emma along and drop her off at Kenneth and Karen's house.

She needs some time alone, away from her siblings even though, at this time, Michael would prefer to keep his family all together. Emma is going to stay with Karen and Kenneth for a little bit, maybe a few days, or even the whole week.

The good thing about this is that Michael's parents only live 25 minutes away from the Hospital, so they can go see Jenny as soon as Michael and Sandy declare it is time to "officially" say goodbye.

Emma is going to be getting up from sunup and working on the farm with Kenneth 'til sundown and, while that may seem harsh, – to make her work when her family is going through potentially losing a child, – it is something that she thrives on. It helps her "reset" and center herself.

When the kids are upset, they each do something different to calm down –

Caleb goes for runs, Elijah plays a particularly hard game of soccer, Gabriel goes with his aunt Cynthia and her boyfriend to build things (it helps for him to be able to pound nails with a hammer), Roslyn does a combination of soccer with Eli or going with Gabe, and Emma, well…

She goes to the Farm. She milks the cows, collects eggs, feeds the chickens, cleans the pigpens. It will help her center herself.

The decision to do it comes Sunday morning when Emma is already awake when the boys get up themselves. Caleb, though he tends to "space" once in a while, is actually pretty good at making at least a halfway decent amount of food for breakfast, so that is what he and Eli do.

* * *

**_*Caleb's point of view*_**

So, today is the day. We all made tapes yesterday saying goodbye to our baby sister, Jennifer. I wish this day did not have to come. I mean, the people taking care of Jennifer, they are–… They are supposed to be doctors. And I thought you had to be good at your job if you wanted to become a doctor.

But… How can you be "good" at your job if you cannot do something as simple as making a baby grow and become stronger?

When we wake up, it is only Emma, Eli, and Gabey, and me, of course. Roz is still sleeping. We decide to make ourselves something to eat. I do sausage and eggs while Eli makes the toast and puts biscuits in the oven.

That is all Dad has taught us to do so far.

Everything is going pretty good – Eli and I are helping each other when it is needed, he is setting the table while I put the eggs and sausage on plates. We let Gabey take them over to the table. Since he is only 6, we didn't let him help us cook, but he did get the milk out, and helped Eli set the table.

I tell Emma, who is watching TV, that breakfast is ready. She comes into the kitchen and grabs her plate. While she is getting her food, Gabey asks how the table looks.

"Look at that!" I praise him. "Gabey, you did a great job. It looks very nice."

My little brother's, who is no longer the baby, cheeks turn red. Typically, it is only Dad and me, Eli, and Nana and Sabba who tell him "great job!"

"I twy-twyed to put dem, um… uh…,"

I know he is having trouble thinking of the word. He sometimes does that. He will have a word in his brain but then it gets stuck in his throat and he is unable to say it. Gabey tries to say whatever it is he wants to say, but I can tell he is becoming frustrated.

Before I can do anything to help him, Emma huffs.

"Come on! Just sit down and eat already. No one cares what you tried to do!"

Gabey immediately frowns and he looks down. I can see that Emma really upset him. And instead of saying anything, he just sits down. I help him put the food on his plate, then I do mine. And I make sure to give him a hug so he will maybe feel better.

"Em, you didn't have to be so mean," Eli says. "Gabey was just trying to say something. You know he sometimes has trouble trying to think of the word he wants to say."

Emma rolls her eyes. Apparently, she is going to be in mood today, too. I guess I can understand that. She is worried about Jennifer. But you know what? So am I. And so are Eli and Gabey and Roz. Mom and Dad are, too.

But still… She does not have to be so mean.

After eating some of my eggs, Gabey asks for my help cutting up his sausage. That is another thing he has trouble with. But it is ok. I push my plate to the side and then get his plate. Just as I am cutting up his sausage and then putting strawberry jelly on his biscuit, Emma huffs _again_.

Why can't she just _be quiet_?

"You are such a baby, Gabriel! You don't even know how to use a knife. Roz knows how to. Why are you so dumb? You can't tie your shoes, or write your name, or cut up your own food, and you can't even tell the difference between left and right!"

"Pease suh-suh-sop bein' mean…"

"Pease suh-suh-sop!"

Emma mocks him, making him even more upset. Ok, that is _it_. I have officially had enough.

"Emma! Stop it!" I shout. "Just _stop it_! God, why do you have to do that?! Why can't you just be quiet?! You make Gabriel so upset when you say things like that – why can't you _stop already_?!"

"Well, maybe if he wasn't such a baby, I wouldn't have a reason to do it!"

"I am not baby!" Gabriel shouts back.

"Yes you _are_! You even _talk _like one! '_Pease sop_' and '_uh-uh-uh_', and '_you being mean_'. You talk like one and you act like one! You're either dumb or a baby, Gabriel, so which is it, huh? Are you a little crybaby, or are you just dumb in your head?"

She makes a face at this. You know, the "crying" motions with her hands. It makes Gabriel cry, just like always. She keeps doing it, though. Then she starts mocking him with _crybaby, crybaby, sitting on fence. Trying to make a dollar out of 50 cents._

Eli steps closer to her. We are all standing up now, well, not Gabriel, but me, Emma, and Eli.

He tries to grab her hands to make her stop with the motions she is doing, and yelling,

"Emma-Jo! Stop! Just because Gabey has trouble with certain things does make him a baby!" Now, generally?

Generally, Eli is the one to _not_ fight. He keeps calm and plays the referee between whoever is arguing or fighting.

But…

I guess even _he _has had enough.

"He is only 6 years old! Lots of 6-year-olds don't know how to tie their shoes, write words, cut their own food, and _a lot_ of 6-year-olds speak like that!"

"Yeah, well, Roslyn knows how to do all those things! And she is 6 years old, too! She doesn't talk like baby or have to have someone cut up her. She does it on her own cause she is smart to know how to!"

"That doesn't mean anything, Emma! There are still things that Roslyn can't do. Just because she is able to some things that Gabriel cannot does _not_ mean that he is dumb! He is _very_ smart!"

"Yeah, well, that's not what his teachers think! He can't read or write, and he even can't say the alphabet! How dumb do you have to be when you can't even say the alphabet!" Emma throws her hands up, like that is the worst thing she has ever heard – a 6-year-old who does not know the alphabet.

"I do to know it!" Gabriel tries to defend himself just like dad has taught all of.

Of course, this gets Emma even more riled up. She puts her hands on her hips, saying, "Oh yeah? Then why don't you say it, huh? Go ahead, do it." Gabey suddenly looks to me, wide-eyed. Emma keeps picking on him, chanting _say it, say it, say it_.

I can see that he is very, very nervous. And I want to yell at Emma some more, but I am stopped by Eli. He pats Gabey on the shoulder, saying, "It's ok, Gabe. Just go ahead and do it. I know you can, you are _very_ smart."

He hesitates but eventually nods.

"Um… A… D… C… D… uh, I mean, um, uh… A… A… B… no, wait, A… A… D… C…"

He gets it wrong but that does not mean anything. To us, that is. To me and Eli. But to Emma? To her it just proves that he must be a baby or dumb.

"Ha! See! You can't even get the first four letters right! That means you are _extra_ dumb – no, wait – it means you are _stupid_!"

Elijah rolls his eyes, stating, "I'm done here!" Before he takes Gabriel by the hand. "Come on, Gabey, let's go eat in the bedroom."

"But–… But… Daddy says…"

"I know, Gabey. But I think Daddy wouldn't care just this once." Eli takes both his and Gabey's plates and they go upstairs.

Emma shouts "I'm telling Mom and Dad that you are eating in your room. Then you're both gonna be in big trouble!"

Eli and Gabey ignore her and, once they are gone, I turn back to her. Why can't she just be nice for once? Gabriel isn't _just my_ brother – he is hers, too! She never picks on anyone as much as she picks on him.

"He is just taking longer to learn those things, Emma!" I shout at her. "So what if he can't do it?! He is only 6! He is only in kindergarten!"

I know she is worried about Jennifer. But that does not mean she has to be so… so… so fucking _rude_ to our little brother. Why can't she just be nice, like she was last night? When she hugged me because I was crying 'cause I don't want Jennifer to die?

"No, it is because Mom was right! He _is_ a re–"

"Emma-Jo Faith Jareau, you better think twice before finishing that sentence, Young Lady!"

We both spin around and see Dad standing on the staircase. He looks _really_ mad.

"She called Gabey dumb!" I say before she can start telling lies. "And she called him a baby and stupid. She was picking' on him, Dad!"

Dad's eyes widen at this. He believes me because he knows I would _never_ lie about this. Sometimes I do lie about things, but I have not and never will lie about Emma calling Gabriel those names. That is just going too far. She is my sister and I love her, so unless she actually did it, I would never _say_ she did.

"Emma-Jo Faith!"

"No, I didn't!" She immediately retorts back. "He's lyin'!"

"I think you know better than to say that, Emma-Jo. And it does not matter anyway, because _I_ heard you say. I heard you call your little brother dumb and a crybaby _and_ stupid."

Her shoulders droop because now she _knows_ there is not getting away with it. If Dad heard you say it, you are going to be in serious trouble.

"_And_," Dad continues. "I would like to know what, exactly, was that last sentence going to be finished with?"

Emma's eyes literally look like they are going to fall out of her head. It is pretty hilarious. and I try, but fail, to hide my smile. Dad tells me to take my plate up to my room, and that is how I know this is going to be probably one of the most serious talks Dad has ever had with Emma.

I grab my plate, two extra biscuits, an extra sausage, and two more pieces of toast. Then I grab my milk and go up to my room. Eli and Gabey are there.

"Oh. My. _God_!" I say as soon as the door is closed. Eli and Gabey look at me with wide eyes. "Daddy is awake!"

"Yeah, we know," Eli whispers. "He came to see if we were awake and asked why we were eating in here. I told him about what Emma said and he just said that is what he thought. He said he heard her say those things! And then he went downstairs, and that is when you came up here."

I sit my plate on the little table that is in here. We all three have our own desks but then Gabey has a table for when he is playing with Legos or drawing pictures. I sit down next to Gabey, and he says,

"Am I in twuh-twuh-… twuh-bull, Bubba Caleb?"

"No. I don't think so."

There is a knock at the door, and I go to answer to find Roz standing there. Her brown hair is all messy and she is in her blue gown. She rubs her eyes, saying, "What's with all the yellin'?"

"Emma was being mean to Gabriel again." I tell her. "We are eating in here so Dad can talk to her. Do you want to come in?" Roslyn does. She comes over and I give her my napkin. I put a piece of toast, a biscuit, two sausages, and some eggs on it.

We all eat and talk about what is going to happen today. Mom and Dad are going to leave soon and go to the Hospital. We may not have two sisters tomorrow because Jennifer will probably… _die_… either this afternoon or tonight.

That makes Gabriel cry and Roslyn looks confused. I don't think she understands just yet what that means. After we are done eating, Eli suggests we watch a movie, to try and cheer Roz and Gabey up.

We let them pick. It's Scooby-Doo, of course, and then we pile our beanbags together and all of the blankets and pillows on to the floor. I do a goofy face while singing the _Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?_ song, and it makes Roslyn and Gabriel laugh so much.

And that is how we spend the rest of our morning.

* * *

**_*Meanwhile, in the kitchen – Michael's point of view*_**

While I would _love_ to yell at Emma, scolding her for calling her little brother those names…

I know that she, never in a million years, would actually, genuinely, think those things. First things first, though… Emma needs to finish her breakfast, so it does not get cold. While she is going that, I start a pot of coffee and make myself a plate of food.

Once my plate is half empty, I start speaking. I know she is expecting something, and I do not want to cause any more worry to her than necessary.

I understand that she is frustrated, upset, worried, sad, scared, etc. But…

"No matter how much of those feelings you have, that is _not_ a reason to call your little brother such demeaning and harsh names. It makes me feel like your mother and I have not been raising you the way we should be."

Emma sighs, looking down, all the anger leaving her body, and remorse taking its place.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't really mean them! He just annoys me so much!"

"Listen, sweetheart," I set my fork aside so I can give her my undivided attention. "He may sometimes be annoying, but that is _still_ not a reason to call him those names. It hurts him, honey, and I know you know that. It hurts his feelings so much, especially because he absolutely adores you."

I know that leaving Emma here all day while Sandy and I head to Philly is probably not a good idea. The rest of the kids will stay here, but for Emma, it is probably best she go somewhere else.

"Once you are finished eating, I want you to go upstairs and apologize to your little brother. Okay?"

I also realize and accept that grounding her, at least this time, is probably also not the best thing. It will not do any good to punish her this time. All of this is stemming from the fact that her baby sister is, quite literally, _dying_, and what good would it do to ground her for having _feelings_ over this?

And that is why, when she puts her plate in the sink and walks to the staircase, stopping to ask…

"Are you gonna ground me, Dad? I think you should. No TV or computer privileges, and I should have to do extra chores. It wasn't right of me to call him _stupid_ or _dumb_ or a _baby_."

I just shake his head. I hate that she automatically assumes or thinks I am going to punish her, and I hate, even more, that she thinks she _should be_ punished. That is not the kind of environment I want my children growing up in.

"No, Em. I'm going to ground you this time. I do not think it would be right. You are all worried right now. You are all scared and have been thrown into a grownup world and are dealing with grownup problems. I don't think grounding you and giving you extra chores will change that."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Well," I sigh. And think it over. Then, "How about you come with me and Mom to Philly. We can drop you off at Nana and Sabba's house. And you can spend the day there. Just you, how does that sound?"

Of course, Emma loves the idea. She will get to do what she wants, while also calming down and getting her anger and worries and fear out in a _positive_ way that does not included calling her little brother hurtful names.

Once that is decided, Emma heads upstairs to the boys' room. I go with her to make sure the boys actually let her into their room.

She knocks on the door, goes inside after I tell them it is ok, and then she tells Gabriel that she is sorry. She didn't mean those things she called him. She is worried and that made her do and say impulsive and irrational things.

Gabriel accepts her apology and then asks if she wants to watch the movie with them. She says of course, and I tell them I'll bring up some popcorn. After I do that is when I tell Emma to go and pack a bag for her grandparents' house.

She does, getting ready and everything, then going back to the bedroom. And that is how they spend their morning.

Watching _Scooby-Doo_. Laughing, joking, being happy.

I soak this up because, if it really happens, if we really do lose Jennifer, then…

It will probably be far too long before they are able to get this amount of happiness back into their lives.

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**Ok, so, I was not sure _what_ I was going to write for this, but I decided to extend on Emma's behavior. Basically, when Emma is sick or worried, etc., then she lashes out. She makes fun of/picks on her siblings, and so on. ****She is not a bad kid, or a bad big sister. This is just her outlet for those feelings.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**Next up: 3-part "goodbye" chapter.**


	15. The Forever Goodbye pt 1 (8-26-1978)

_**Chapter 15 - The Forever Goodbye pt. 1**_

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, cousins, and other family members, and the doctors, future teachers, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: M - until further notice. Angst warning.**

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**Thank you to those who reviewed! We're almost at 50 for just 15 chapters, thank you so much!**

**To _sweetkid45_, I'm glad you decided to stick around. It gets much happier at chapter 18! :) To _Daisyangel_ and _Bohogal1998_, thank you! I agree that stress messes with us big time. And Emma is having to deal with so much right now, more than a child should have to. :( Finally, _Kensi1997_, I am excited to get the rest up, as well! I am enjoying writing this so much, and am happy that you guys seem to enjoy it, too. :)**

**Welcome to my new follower and favoriter _lostgirly_!**

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**Notes: A much sadder chapter. The kids say goodbye to their baby sister through their tape-recordings. I felt that going immediately back to the hospital would be a little too much for them seeing as none are older than 12, and it would just be a bad decision on Michael and Sandy's part.**

****Note for Gabriel & Roslyn – Gabe's speech is going to be more… messed up then Roslyn's. This is important for what is to come in the future. You may recognize the way he speaks as him "having" something, but that will not be brought up until much later.**

**Trigger Warning: This deals with a premature baby, sickness, and possible death. Please read with caution. Marked as the entire chapter.**

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_**Saturday, August 26th, 1978**_

* * *

**_*4 hours later – Philadelphia Children's Hospital – Normal point of view*_**

They decide to each do a tape recording for Jennifer. Elijah and Caleb help the little ones do it, and they all record one message each, with Roslyn and Gabriel's combined, making a total of 4 tapes.

Michael and Sandy come back to the Hospital in the afternoon, just a few hours after Michael first arrived home. Kenneth and Karen are going to come tomorrow with their own kids, to say goodbye to Jennifer.

For right now, none of the kids came with them. It is simply Michael and Sandy who are here. They will come back in the afternoon of tomorrow, after Karen, Kenneth, and Michael's sisters and brother leave. They will stay throughout the afternoon, and into the night. Angus has granted Jennifer's parents an overnight stay, since usually, parents are required to go home for the night, so they will do that tomorrow.

And then… They will let Jennifer go.

They will take her off the medicines and everything that is supposed to be helping her, and will stay with her, talking to her, just… _being there_… until she takes her last breath.

Dr. Jacobs said this could occur anytime time from early tomorrow night to early in the morning on Monday. The mood is very somber. You can tell that they had some very bad news as neither parent is smiling, and both, even Sandy, look particularly… _distraught_.

Nurse Jo is there when they enter, after washing up and putting on the gowns, masks, and gloves. She smiles sadly in greeting.

"Hello, Michael, Sandy."

Michael nods to her in response. He holds out the tape recorder player and Jo takes it over to the disinfectant station to clean it up.

Afterwards, she returns it, opening the little circle hold on Jennifer's cot so that the baby can hear what the tapes are about to play. Michael presses play, laying the recorder just inside the hole. The voice on the tape is Caleb's, and he has to choke back the tears at what is being said…

* * *

**_Caleb's goodbye:_**

_"Hello, Jennifer. It's your big brother, Caleb, again. This is my third tape for you and, well, it is one I wished I never had to make. I am doing this to say goodbye to you. And it is not a goodbye as in, 'I'm off to college, see you in a few months!'"_

_"No," He sighs. "No, this is a forever goodbye. A forever goodbye that should not be said until we are in our 80s or 90s. Only, you won't make it that far."_

_"This isn't fair, Jennifer. You were supposed to the one that defied all odds. You and Jules and Luke, you were all supposed to come home, together, grow old, together. I was supposed to teach you had to read and how to ride a bike and tell all your boyfriends that I would kick their asses – sorry, their butts, – if they hurt you."_

_"I can't do that, though, if I have to give you a forever goodbye before you even turn two months old. I wish you could get better, baby, I really, really do. I love you with all my heart and I wish, so much, Jennifer, I wish that you would grow."_

_"I wish you could grow to the size of a healthy baby girl. I wish you… I just wish that this did have to happen."_

_"I love you, Jennifer, and even though I am not going to be there when you take your last breath, I want you to remember that. I want you to know and never, _ever_ question it."_

_"You are going to be seeing a lot of people up in Heaven. Say 'hi' to your grandpa from Mom's side, your bigger-than-me, big brother, Jeremiah, and your big sisters, Stephanie and Alexandria, for me, ok?"_

The tape ends with the sound of Caleb's letting out a deep breath and Michael clicks it off, switching it out for the next tape. It's Emma's, the first she has made, because she thought she had more time to get what she wanted to say together.

* * *

**_Emma's goodbye:_**

_"Hi, JJ. It's me, Emma. You don't know me yet, but I am your big sister. Y'know, Bubba Caleb's twin sister. You have another brother and sister who are twins. Gabriel and Roslyn."_

_Emma sighs, and there is a rustling sound._

_"I love you, y'know. I've–… Well, I have only seen you… Three… No, four… Four times. But, you are pretty. You look a little like Mom." She sighs again, and Michael can tell she is getting frustrated with not knowing what or how to say the things needed for this message._

_"I love you. I know I already said that but, I don't know what else to say. I wish you didn't have to die, but the doctors can't make you better, I guess."_

_There is a long pause, and Emma struggles to say anything for several moments before she finally just huffs out a deep breath/sigh, and ends the tape with,_

_"I love you, and I hope you know that, and I hope that, one day, I get to see you again."_

The next tape is marked with _Eli_, and Michael puts it into the player. By now, several people are listening in, though at a respectable distance, trying to show support to this family who has only been in here for a couple of months.

At least two of them know what it is like to go through this, and it is not something any of them would wish on even their worst enemy.

* * *

**_Elijah's goodbye:_**

_"Hi, Jenny!" Elijah's tape starts out. "It's me again – your big brother, Elijah! I love you so much, Jenny, and I hope you know that. Well, we got some… Daddy gave us bad news earlier. He said that, well… He said that you are really sick. You have a lot of things, like an ear infection, something called 'pneumonia'…"_

As he says this, he sounds it out, as though he is showing a child how to read a hard word. It comes out as "new-moan-yuh" and Michael chuckles quietly, sadly, because, yeah… that's the kind of kid Elijah is.

_"And you also have 'sept-is'. Those things mean you are really, really sick, Jenny, and I need you to, please, fight, ok?"_

Michael has to stifle himself as he listens to the pure anguish in his son's voice.

_"The doctors say there is nothing they can do but, Jenny, I don't believe that. I believe you _are a fighter_. And I think, if you tried really, really hard, you _can_ get better, so, I need you to that, ok? I need you to please, please fight."_

_"I am going to sing you a song, ok?"_

A guitar starts in the background, meaning Caleb is there, since he is the one who can do it the best. After a few seconds, Elijah's voice is heard singing…

_"Beautiful dreamer,  
Wake unto me.  
Starlight and dewdrops  
Are awaiting thee._

_Sound of the rude world  
Heard in the day  
Led by the moonlight  
Have all passed away._

_Beautiful dreamer,  
Queen of my song  
List' while I woo thee  
With soft melody._

_Gone are the cares of  
Life's busy throng,  
Beautiful dreamer  
Awake unto me.  
Beautiful dreamer,  
Awake unto me."_

_"I love you so much, Jenny, and if this is really is a forever goodbye, then I promise I won't be mad. Goodbye, baby sis."_

The next one is for both Roslyn and Gabriel. Caleb, Emma, and Elijah helped them, though they stayed in the background as much as possible so that it really is personalized by Roz and Gabe.

* * *

**_Roslyn's & Gabriel's goodbye:_**

_Emma's voice comes on, and she prompts Gabe to say something…_

_"Say 'hi', Gabey."_

_"Hi…"_

_"Now, say how old you are."_

_"I'm six years old; my dirbay was next month!" Emma can be heard correcting him after that (last month, Gabey, your birthday was last month, not next month.)_

_"Now Roz gets to go…" Elijah's voice comes in soft, in the background, probably whispering in Roslyn's ear._

_"Hi, Jenny! My name is Roslyn, and I am six years old. I am Gabey's twin sister!"_

_"OK, now that she knows who you guys are, do you have anything you would like to say?"_

Again, it is whispered, probably in their ears, or just lowly away from the recording mic. Roslyn perks up and starts going on a big tale while Gabriel takes his time in trying to get his thoughts in order.

He sometimes has trouble verbalizing what exactly it is that he wants to say. He will know what he wants to say, but the actual "speaking" part is difficult for him and he freezes up, getting nervous, and then frustrated.

_"Hi, Jenny, it's me, your big sister! I really hope that you get better soon so that you can come home. And when you are bigger, I hope you like to play soccer, like me and Eli! We can go to the park and kick the ball, doesn't that sound fun, Jenny?"_

There is a low clatter in the background, someone saying something and someone else shushing them. Roslyn shushes them more harshly, and they quieten down.

_"Sorry 'bout that, Jenny. Bubba Eli and Sissy Emma were being loud! Anyway, as I was saying… I can't wait for you to come home. You can play Tea Party with me, and kick the soccer ball, and I can teach you math. I hope you and Sissy Jules both like playing with Barbie dolls. And I can even teach you all 'bout the stars!"_

_"Maybe you can even look at them with me and Daddy. We sweep outside in the summertime. And we look at the stars and Daddy tells me their names and all 'bout their stories! It will be really fun. You just hafta wait 'til you are sweeping all night, 'cause that is when you are a big girl, and only big girls can sweep outside. An–"_

_"Okay, Roz, why don't you let Gabey talk now?"_

Michael can barely make out the voice, but it sounds a little like Emma. Roslyn sighs but says 'ok' anyway. And then… the last person begins his goodbye message.

_"Hi, JJ, it's Gabe. I love you a lot. I hope… you… get beh-better soon an' get… to come… home. Daddy says you m-m-might die. Dat makes… me sad. I hope you don't die. I don't want to say goodbye to an-anoder sisser. Bubba C-Ca-Caleb says… dis is… a everfor good… bye. Dat means… we say good… bye and… den don't see… you again."_

_"I am going to miss you, Jenny. I hope you… get… to… come home… wif-wif Bubba Luca and Sissy Jules. Dat way… Dat way, I can teach you stuffs. I… am gonna… teach you how… to-to-to pay… Army and… and Cops-'n'-Wobbers."_

Someone whispers something, and Gabriel speaks one last time.

_"Well, Sissy Em says… I gotta say… good… bye… Goodbye, Sissy Jenny. I wuv you."_

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

The tape clicks off here. Michael put the recorder in the pocket of his jeans and then… Just sighs. He reaches into the little circle hole and he places his fingers on Jennifer's arm.

"Daddy loves you, _Peanut_, and you see? You have so many big sisters and big brothers who love you and want you to come home, so they can teach you how to play soccer and all about the stars and how to play Army. But, _Peanut_, Daddy knows that, if this is your time, the best thing to do is just… let you go."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and pressing at his eyes with his index finger and thumb. His head hurts from the no sleep and all the stress he has been under these last several months. And God does he wish this was all a dream.

"I love you so much, _Peanut_, and I need you to hang on just a little bit longer, all right? You have some aunts and uncles, and your Nana and Papa are coming to say goodbye tomorrow. And you know, your buddy, Little Miss Emilia will be here, also. She will want to say goodbye. So just hold on a little longer, ok?"

He strokes her tiny cheek, slowly, softly, gently.

"Just a little longer, _Peanut_…"

* * *

**And that is the end to part 1. Next will have Emilia saying goodbye.**

**I hope everyone is staying healthy during thisis crazy time. Remember to stay home when possible, and keep safe.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :) **


	16. The Forever Goodbye pt 2 (8-27-1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including doctors, and extra siblings, cousins, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: M. Angst warning.**

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**Thank you to those who reviewed! I promise happier times will happen soon. :)**

**To _sweetkid45_, I know. :( This is all so sad to write, and while I do wish I could just skip to the happier parts, this still needs to happen. Sometimes their health just needs to hit rock bottom before it can start improving, ya'know? And this is detailing that part. :( To _Kensi1997_, I'm sorry I made you cry. I did too, while writing it even though I already know the outcome. And lastly, to _Bohogal1998_ and _Daisyangel_, thank you for the review! Just two more chapters of the sadder content, I promise.**

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**Notes: Emilia says goodbye to Jennifer. Michael and Sandy stay the night with her. They say goodbye to their baby girl and stay by her side as she prepares to move on.**

**Trigger Warning: This deals with a premature baby, sickness, and possible death. Please read with caution. Marked as the entire chapter.**

**_"Sometimes you never know the value of a moment  
until it becomes a memory."_**

**_~Theodor Seuss Geisel_**

* * *

**_Next day – Sunday, August 27th, 1978  
Jules & Luke are 9 weeks old, Jenny is 8 weeks old_**

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – normal point of view*_**

Today has not been a good day at all. And it is only a little after noon.

Karen, Kenneth, and their younger kids, 20-year-old Cynthia, 18-year-old Martha, and 14-year-old Kelley-Elizabeth, came earlier this morning, right at the start of visiting hours.

They all came inside the NICU, and they spoke to Jenny, telling her stories, singing to her, describing all the kinds of things that they would have done with her and Jules and Lucas, and so on.

It soon became too much for Martha and Kelley-Elizabeth, so they all said one last goodbye, gave one last kiss to Jennifer, and then left. And Michael and Sandy were the ones left, aside from several other parents and nurses that remained in the room.

It is not until nearly 1:30 that Elizabeth, James, and Emilia show up. Michael has been _trying to_ prepare himself for this moment, because he asked to tell Emilia himself.

All she knows, is that there is some more bad news regarding Jennifer, and that "Mister Michael" is going to be the one to explain it to her.

Still reeling and upset from yesterday's news, Emilia simply washes up, puts a gown on, and goes straight over to Michael, lacking any of her usual enthusiasm.

"Hi, Misser Michael."

"Hello, Emilia." He wants to ask _how are you_ but even _he_ knows how stupid that would be. It is so very obvious that this little girl is far from even being in the realm of "ok".

"_Mamí_ says you have somethin' to talk to me about."

This is where he falters because _god_, why them? Why her? Why does his family has to suck this little girl into their screwed-up life?

"Yes, sweetie. I do have something to need to speak to you about. Come over here, please." He leads her to the rocking chair that started all of this. The one he was sitting in when Emilia first appeared in his life.

He sits and then she stands in between his knees and, first, he just simply pulls her into his arms, and they stay that way for several moments. Then, Michael pulls away and he clears his throat and he tries oh, so hard to prepare himself to break this little girl even more than she already is.

"I am so very sorry to have to tell you this, Emilia, but I am afraid that there is nothing else the doctors can do for Jennifer. She has a lot of things going on, and the doctors – _we_ – have decided that the best thing to do is… is to just let her go."

"Why can't they just give her medicine, like _Mamí_ does when I'm sick?"

The simplicity of it all… Michael wishes he could bottle it up and keep it for himself.

Because it really, really fucking _sucks_ being an adult.

"They have been giving her medicine, 'Millie, but I am afraid that… well, her body just cannot handle it all. The medicine for her ear infection, and her pneumonia, and her sepsis, – which is a very serious thing. It means she has a very, very bad infection. – and all of that, it is just… her body is not using in the way it should, taking it in, and using it against all these infections."

He sighs, swallowing around lump in his throat, taking in the absolute heartbreak in her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, 'Millie. But, the best thing to do, – the best thing _now_, – is to stop giving her all these medicines that are not working or helping and just… We just have to let her go."

Emilia just nods, diving back into his arms, and he holds her tightly.

Several minutes later, they pull away from each other, and Nurse Jo comes over, prepping Michael to hold Jennifer.

"Just sit right here," Nurse Jo instructs. "And put this pillow here… Now, I am going to pick her up and transfer her to your arms. Then, just stay still while I get all the cords and such situated. Just remember to hold her gently, like you would any newborn. Support her head and bottom, and so on."

The moment Jennifer is in his arms, the rest of the world fades away.

"Oh, _Peanut_… How I wish this was not for the reason it is. I love you so much. I know your big sisters and big brothers love you. Did you hear their voices earlier, _Peanut_? Remember yesterday? They left you all messages. And I know that they wanted to be here today but, well, _Peanut_, mommy and I just thought it might be too much for them."

Michael begins to hum, softly singing, "_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make happy when skies are grey…_"

"_Peanut_, you are going to get to see so many people up in Heaven, you know. Just like your Bubba Caleb said. You will have a big brother; his name will be Jeremiah. He would have been the first and original _'JJ'_, you know. And you also have two big sisters. They are going to look alike. Their names are Stephanie and Alexandria."

He chuckles a bit, remembering something, "But you can call Alexandria,_ Lexie_, because she does not like her given name. And you are going to have two aunties. My little sisters who were born sleeping, just like Stephanie was. Their names are Valerie, Valerie Lynn Jareau, and Anne Renee Jareau. Such a pretty name for a beautiful little girl. It is why Lexie's middle name was _'Lynn'_. And why your middle name is '_Anne_'"

Michael pauses here to think for a moment, trying to remember who all else Jennifer will "see" "up there".

"And, _Peanut_, I think you might even get to see your Grandpa, not my daddy, but your mama's daddy. Your Grandpa Fredrick. He never got to meet you, or many of your other brothers and sisters. You see, he died back 1969, when your Sissy Emma and Bubba Caleb were only about to turn 3 years old, and your Bubba Elijah was 19 months old."

Michael continues the rocking motion for several moments, drifting off to a softer voice before quieting down completely. He eventually looks to Sandy.

"Honey, would you like to hold her? I'm sure Nurse Jo would love to set you up here in this chair. And I think Jennifer might would like to be held by her mommy." Michael addresses the infant in his arms, enjoying the feeling of being able to look Jennifer directly in the eye. "She is such a beautiful baby, Sandy. Can you believe _we_ made this beautiful little baby?"

"Actually," He chuckles. "I can believe that she came from you. You have your beauty about you, Darling, and she looks so much like you, y'know." He looks to Sandy, who looking at both of them. "Would you like to hold her? We can do that, can't we, Jo?"

"Of course! Of course. We'd just need to shift her back to the bed, have Mrs. Jareau be seated, then we can place Jennifer into her arms." Nurse Jo goes to do just that thinking that Sandy _would_ like to hold her daughter. After all, this is one of Jennifer's last nights on Earth so… why _wouldn't _she want to hold her?

But, Nurse Jo frowns, on the inside, that is, not outwardly, as Sandy, once again, shakes her head, saying,

"No, that's ok. I'm just fine over here." She motions to where she was standing between Juliet's and Lucas's cots. Michael frowns, saying, while trying not to start a fight,

"Honey, it will be ok. I know this is so, so scary. She looks really fragile, doesn't she?" He adopts the tone of voice he uses when Roslyn or Gabriel is upset about something. "But you are a pro at handling babies," Here, he tries to smile, to show that he really does think that because, well, he _does_. She has handled 5 other babies so far. She knows how to rock them, feed them, how to stop their crying…

"Come on, babe. Just for a moment. I just know Jennifer would love to have you hold her."

Sandy sighs at this, looking at both her husband and her… _her little girl_. She may not like the way Jennifer looks, but that is only because of Jennifer's lip. It is quite frightening and a big unknown. There was no warning that her daughter would look like this. The doctor did not see it on the ultrasound.

But maybe Michael is right. Jennifer might look… _weird_… because of her lip, and because she is much smaller than her Triplet siblings, with Juliet and Lucas both being nearly twice their birth weight by now. But, regardless, this little girl is… _hers_.

Sandy comes over and she bends down by the rocking chair, on the left side, where Michael's elbow and Jennifer's tiny little head rests on a pillow.

She gently, with a feathery touch, runs her fingertips over Jennifer's head. She has hair, though it is fuzzy and a little dark. Probably would have eventually darkened to brown like most of her siblings' have. Sandy's wonders which sibling she would have looked like the most.

But… she just shakes her head. And she stands and she shuffles – not step, but shuffles – backwards, to where she was previously standing in between Juliet's and Lucas's cots.

"No. I don't want to. Please understand that, Michael."

And Michael nods because he _does_ understand. He understands, as a parent, how surreal it is that _this_ is their life – having 11 kids but 3, going on 4, of them being Angels. So, he just grants her an out. Maybe her mind is unable to process things the way his is.

Maybe… being here at all is all the "processing" that Sandy is able to do.

She will grieve in her own time; just like with Jeremiah, and Stephanie, and, sooner or later, with the aftershock of losing Alexandria.

Sandy goes back to Juliet and Lucas, and Michael's attention is adverted by Emilia asking, "Misser Michael… Can I–… Do you think… Um…"

"Emmy," Elizabeth comes over. "Just take a deep breath, sweetie, and ask him the question, okay?" It is a gentle push and, while Emilia still rocks back and forth on her heels, adopting a nervous atmosphere about herself, she does still ask,

"Please, may I… May I hold Jenny, too?"

Michael smiles sadly at her, nodding but then looking at Nurse Jo.

"She can hold her, right? I think we might be able to prop the pillows up enough but–… We can do that, yes?"

"Of course, yes…" Jo does not even bother using her cheerful "welcome to the NICU!" voice. She was trained for this; she was trained for the moments of a parent or family saying goodbye to their baby, but, my god, does that not make it easy.

Each time, Jo asks herself _why them?_ Why must the moment of saying goodbye to a baby have to come to families of big sisters and big brothers, of young ones 4, 5, 6 years old. Of those asking the innocent question of _but why, Mommy?_

"Let me just adjust all the wires and such and put her back into her cot for a few minutes. We need to get a few more pillows, and I will show you how to place them. Come right over here, Emilia, sweetie, and then you can hold Jennifer."

They place Jennifer back into her cot, then Emilia sits in the rocking chair and has three pillows propped up around her. Two for where her elbow will lay, and one in her lap, so that she has enough support when holding Jennifer.

Then, the moment that she has both long awaited and dreaded. Jennifer is gently placed into her arms but… It does not send a thrill through her as she has wished. Instead, if makes her heart ache, and her insides feel the same as when her mommy and daddy told her that her brothers were born in a special sleep.

Though she is captivated by this beautiful baby girl, it makes her tummy hurt, and she tears up almost immediately.

"I don't want you to die," She whispers, her voice fracturing, along with every heart in the room. "I have so many things that I want to teach you. Pease don't die, ok, Jenny? I love you. I love you so much, like I love Gracie an' Claire, an' all my other brothers an' sister. And I really, really don't want you to die. Pease get better."

Elizabeth bends down beside her daughter, brushing brown curls away from the 8-year-old's eyes. Emilia sniffles and the pain in her eyes almost absolutely destroys her mom.

"I love her, _Mamí_," The 8-year-old whispers.

"I know you do, baby. I know you do."

"I don't want her to die…"

"Oh, baby," She shift upwards, so she can press her forehead against Emilia's. "I know. Mommy knows. You are being so brave, and I am so, so proud of you. I love you, sweetheart."

"I wanna go home now." Elizabeth doesn't even question it; she just nods and waits until Jo and Michael have picked Jennifer up and cleared away the pillows. James comes over, picking her up, and carrying her outside to the hallway. Elizabeth gives one final goodbye, and her condolences to Michael, before making sure he knows he can call them, at any time, in the next 24 hours, if need be.

He thanks her, watches her leave, and then… He takes his place back in the rocking chair, watching Jennifer nap in her cot, hoping for a completely different outcome of the next about 18 hours that Jennifer may only have left.

"Daddy loves you, _Peanut_. Please don't forget that. I am so proud of you. You are so strong, but it is ok now. You can go ahead and see your big brother and big sisters any time, ok? Any time you need to…"

"I love you so much, babygirl."

* * *

**This one was certainly bittersweet. Emilia got to hold Jennifer for the first time, but the situation took away the happiness about it. Only one more chapter dealing with this, and then we will have some timeskips and will be moving on (to much more positive moments!)!**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	17. The Forever Goodbye pt 3 (8-27-1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or the characters, including Roslyn or Sandy Jareau, and Elizabeth Prentiss. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's siblings, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: M - until further notice. Angst warning.**

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**Thank you to those who reviewed on the last chapter. To _sweetkid45_, thank you, and don't worry, this is the last sad chapter. The next chapter will be much happier! :) To _Bohogal1998_ and _Kensi1997_, I know. I hated writing these chapters. It made me cry even though I already knew the outcome. :( _Boris Yeltsin_, thank you for reviewing, and welcome! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. :) Lastly, to _Daisyangel_, Emilia did get to hold her. :( As for Sandy, she has some very important things to work through and honestly, it will not always come with the right decision.**

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**Notes: This is the last "goodbye" chapter. I put in Elizabeth's point of view, and you will get a bit of interaction between Elizabeth and James.**

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**_*2 hours later – Elizabeth's point of view*_**

My husband and I left the Hospital with our daughter, Emilia, only about two hours ago. We stopped at the park a little bit away from the Hospital and let her play for about 45 minutes before she asked to go to McDonald's.

While James and I were watching her play, my pager went off. It was Michael asking me to call him, so I went to the payphone, called Angus, and he paged Michael to his office.

Michael then informed me that they are going to do a _Keepsake_ _Book_ for their daughter, Jennifer.

A _Keepsake_ _Book_ is when you take mementos, such as her handprint and footprint, a lock her hair, etc., and you put together a little book to remember a loved one by.

Michael said that they would like Emilia to be a part of the process. I told him _of course_ and that I would speak to her about and then get back to him. I go back inside McDonald's to speak with James.

"I honestly don't know whether this would be too much for her. She was so upset earlier, and even now, she seems to still be sad. I know we have not known Michael and his family for very long and have only interacted with him for a month or so, but Emmy has gotten so attached to Jennifer."

I sigh, looking away, to across the _Playroom_, where Emilia is playing tag with another little boy and little girl.

"But, then again, maybe _that_ should be the reason we let her do it. I think she would need this type of closure. I just don't know, James."

I want to protect my baby girl from all the pain she will experience in her lifetime. I may not be able to change the pain she has already been through – losing three of her little brothers – but I can certainly try to make sure she never goes through a loss ever again.

"I think…" My husband sighs. "I think maybe we should let her… I understand why you are hesitant, Lord knows I am, too. I want to wrap her up and make sure she never has any more nightmares or days where she is cries all day because she misses her baby brothers. But, as much as we would both love to do that, I–… If it were Gracie or Claire, we would let all the kids be involved."

He leans across the table, placing a hand over mine, and then lifting my hand to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles.

"I think we should let her. It might be good to have this sort of goodbye. It will be the closure she needs. Closure that she not necessarily have with Eric, Tobias, and Nathaniel."

I nod. "Yeah… I– That's what I thought you would say."

After waiting for… several moments… I decide to just get it over with. So, I call Emilia over to the table, and James and I discuss what it is that Michael says he would like her to be a part of. And, just as I equally knew, and hoped she would not do, she says she wants to do it.

"Ok, baby, come on then. Would you like to change into the second outfit we have in car, or are you ok with what you have on?" I ask this because… well, I actually do not why I ask it. Maybe I am trying to stall as long as possible. Maybe I trying to, nonverbally, talk her out of this.

"I want to wear this one." She has on a simple pair of jean shorts, a red tank top, and her light up sandals. "Can you braid my hair, please?"

"Of course, baby." I braid her hair into two French braids, tying them off with red ribbons. "Okay, baby, Daddy is going to take you to car while I call Mister Michael to let him know that we will be there in a few minutes, ok?"

"Okay, _Mamí_," She gathers the trash, throws it away, then asks her daddy to carry her and he complies, even though she is getting too big.

Whenever Emilia is upset, or there is something like this going on, she likes to be babied. Extra cuddles, help getting dressed, and James or I staying in the bathroom while she gets a bath, and she always, _always_ wants to be carried by James.

It is her own way of coping, and I nor James mind it.

I make the call and Michael says they will be in NICU. Once in the car, I make sure Emilia really does want to do this. I am positive Michael would understand if she chose not to.

"I want to go, _Mamí_. I wanna say goodbye to Jenny."

Well… That settles it. I share a look with James before he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. The Hospital is nearly 25 minutes away, but it feels as if we are there in less than half that time.

* * *

**_*NICU Floor – Michael's point of view*_**

Emilia and her parents come straight to the Hospital. The rest of the families in the room with us leave to give my wife and I some privacy. I tried to tell them that they did not have to do that, but they all, coincidentally, insisted that it was time for them to each lunch.

So now, it is just Sandy and I, plus Emilia, James, and Elizabeth. We have several things out ready to make our _Keepsake_ _Book_.

"Hi, Misser Michael." Emily greets though it is far from her usual enthusiastic voice. I don't blame her; it is hard for me to even _force_ a smile let alone have a _real_ one.

"Hello, Emilia. How was your lunch?"

She gives a halfhearted shrug, coming over to me and silently asking for a hug by raising her arms. Of course, I accept it immediately, rubbing her back and trying to give her the comfort that I know she will not feel for a very long time.

"_Mamí_ said your gonna make a book for Jenny?"

"Yes, we are going to do somethings and then use those things to make a book. It will be called our _Keepsake Book_, something we can look at whenever we miss Jennifer."

She nods but does not reply verbally. I usher her over to Jennifer's cot.

"First, we are going to do a handprint and footprint."

We do just that. Nurse Jo helps us paint Jennifer's feet with the black ink that the Hospital uses for birth certificates.

"Alrigthy, that looks good." Nurse Jo picks up the sheet of paper that we will be using for the prints. "Now, we just press her little feet right here, would either of you like to do it?"

I turn to Emilia who is watching with intent.

"Miss 'Millie, would you like to make the footprints?"

She nods and comes closer. Nurse Jo and I guide her on how to put Jennifer's feet against the papers and press on them, making sure to press the entire foot so at least _most_ of the footprint is made.

Then, we do it with Jennifer's tiny little hands. It is really remarkable just how tiny her hands are; I think a dozen, or more, could fit in one of my palms.

After this, I inform James and Elizabeth that I was wondering if they would care for us to make Emilia a book of her own. Of course they say yes, and Emilia says she would like one, so we reroll the ink on Jennifer's hands and feet to make an extra copy, along with a third sheet, for my parents and siblings to have one.

That will be the first page of the _Keepsake Book_. Beside that page is a picture that I took as soon as I was allowed to come inside the NICU on the day Jennifer was born. I took several photos, so I hand Emilia one, and keep one for my parents' book.

The next page is going to be her birth info.

"13 inches and 1.9 pounds," Nurse Jo informs us.

Emilia whispers, "That's so tiny…" while gazing at my daughter. "I wish she was bigger now."

I go over to her, bending down, and saying, "So do I, sweetheart. I bet the two of you would have been best friends forever. And I just know you would have so much to teach her. I have seen the way you are with your little sisters and little brother; and you would have been an _amazing_ friend to Jennifer, I just know it."

She leans on me, still looking at Jennifer. "I'm gonna miss her."

The next few pages are about her birth info – weight, length, time and date of birth, location of birth, etc. Then, we put down her physical traits, like eye and hair color.

The last several pages will be quotes, pictures, and messages. Nurse Jo and Dr, Jacobs write a message, Elizabeth helps Emilia to write some, James, and she, herself, even write a few. Then, something amazing happens.

Nurse Jo leaves the room for a few moments. I wonder where she is off to, but I do not have to wait long. She soon comes back with two thick manilla folders. Handing it to me, she says,

"Just a little something from the rest of us."

I look at her confused while also opening the folder. I choke on the tears as soon as I see what is in the first folder.

Cards. Lots of them. So many. Some made by kids who were obviously no older than 4 or 5, others were made and written by teenagers. Drawings, stickers, cards…

I pick one out to read…

_Dear Mr. Jareau and Jennifer Jareau,_

_I don't know you, but you are in the NICU with my little sister. Her name is Hailey, maybe you know her? I heard from my mom and dad that you are not doing so well. You are really sick, and the medicine cannot help you. Your mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Jareau, are going to tell the doctors they want to let you go._

_Even though I do not know you, I still think of my sister when I think of your parents letting you go. It would make me really sad of we had to let Hailey go. And I know your parents are really sad. So, I want to ask that you fight. Fight to be better, fight to live, fight to go home._

_I know it would make your mom and dad happy, and it would make your big brothers and big sisters happy._

_I hope you get better, Jennifer, because even though I do not know you, I feel like I do. We all celebrate every milestone in the NICU together. And I hope, one day, I get to celebrate you graduating and coming home with you and your family._

_Sincerely, Keith David Johnson – age 14._

Next is a card that was drawn by a child no older than 10. It has some slight spelling errors, but the thought is what counts. And it has a beautifully drawn gown and hat, with the words,

_This is what your gradution hat will look like. I hope you git to ware it. Get Well Soon!_ – _Deborah Taylor_.

The following cards and letters are stapled together. They were made by a sibling or family of three, and each are lovely. They have pictures that were drawn, and words that make my heart hurt. It is obvious that Jennifer was loved by many people, even those who I have never met.

Next is a… a sketch. And my hands shake as I show it to Sandy.

"Honey,… look."

Her eyes widen as she takes the piece of paper. It is of a little girl, about 4 years old. Her curly hair is up in pigtails and her smile is wide, showing dimples, though tiny, in both cheeks. Her eyes sparkle, even in the drawing, and you can tell the features of this little girl are similar to Jennifer's. The only difference?

No cleft lip.

And she looks even more beautiful, with her complete smile that has a smidge of mischief in it. As Sandy admires it, unable to tear her eyes away, I notice there seems to be more sketches that are similar to this one…

A toddler with a party hat and _Happy First Birthday, Jennifer_ written on a banner behind her. (age 1)

A little girl, just a bit older, riding a tricycle. She has a pink dress on with her blonde hair in braids. (age 2)

The next is a little girl dressed up with a backpack – obviously, this would be her first day of preschool. (age 3)

After that is the one Sandy is still holding, where the little girl is four, but there are tons more.

A gap tooth smile at about 7 or 8. I look to the bottom and notice that it is actually dated, and age stamped. The little girl in this picture is 7. She is missing her front tooth, giving her that adorable smile that makes her look both grown up and like a little kid.

Next is age 10. Her hair is longer, she no longer looks to be a "little" kid. She is taller, and she is wearing jeans, a pink t-shirt, and her hair, now even more curly, is longer and held back by a black headband.

Next is thirteen. A teenager. Taller, older, more beautiful. I laugh through my tears at this one because this little girl is holding her very own cellphone. Obviously, the person who drew this is optimistic for 1991.

Next, age 18…

It takes my breath away.

A graduation cap and gown on a much older girl. No baby teeth, much longer hair, taller, more mature… She is standing in a crowd of people, holding what would be a diploma. God how I wish this day could happen. I hand it Sandy as I have the rest and unfold the very last photo.

If I thought 18 was hard to look at, this one punches me in the gut.

_Jennifer Jareau, 2058, age 80._

An old woman, with wrinkles and tired eyes. A smile that is still beautiful, with curly hair that is grey, instead of blonde. She looks like she has lived a long, wonderful, pleasurable life.

There is a note attached to this one…

_For Jennifer's parents. So she can grow with your family._

God.

I look to Sandy, and I just _know_.

No matter how strong she tries to be…

This is tearing her apart on the inside. She clutches the sketches as if her life depends on it and in a way, I guess it does. Part of her own life is being told in those 8 sketches. Her baby girl, _our_ baby girl, will eventually pass on, but these pictures. These beautifully drawn, age-progression photos…

That is what she and I will hold onto for years to come.

The only comfort I feel right now is that Jennifer will have three older siblings waiting for her, if Heaven is real. I hope it is, though. I hope there is place where Jennifer can go, to grow and play, and be pain and illness free.

_That_ is the only way I will be able to through these next 24 hours.

Hell, it will probably be one of the only things getting Sandy and I through _our_ life. Until _we_ are 80 years old and are watching _our_ grandchildren grow up.

I ask Nurse Jo to find out who did these sketches because I would like to thank them for this wonderful gift. But all she tells me is she does not know. She could name or point out nearly every person who made a card, letter, or drawing but not with these.

And, she assures me, she would remember the person who made not one, but _eight_, sketches.

I share a look with Sandy, wondering, then, who made them.

Who was the person to give us this wonderful gift? To let us see our baby girl grow up before our eyes.

I tuck them together and into a manila folder of their own, so they will not get ripped, or something spilled on them. And I put them to the side so we can take them home later and keep them in a place that they will be safe.

Then, I go back to watching my daughter. We talk to her, sing to her, tell her stories…

And I try to prepare myself for what is to come.

* * *

**And that is it. I was just going to combine this with the last chapter but there is a very special milestone reached soon, and I wanted it to be chapter 20, so this part had to be drawn out longer. I will try to put the next one up soon, though the one after that will take longer as I am almost out of prewritten chapters.**

**Please review and let know what you thought! :)**


	18. The Dream (8-28-1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including doctors, and extra siblings, cousins, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

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**Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! We have nearly 50 reviews, which is amazing. :)**

**To _sweek45_ and _Daisyangel_, hmm... I don't know. Maybe sometime in the future they will find out. ;) To _Bohogal1998_ and _Kensi1997_, thank you! As sad as it was to write, I had fun doing the last chapter. It was kind of cool to research/write details about that, and show what/how people might feel during that time.**

**And ****here ****is the one you have all been waiting for - a change in Jennifer's health status, and a much, much happier chapter!**

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**Notes: So****me Mommy/Daughter moments for Elizabeth and Emilia. And it is time you ****get to know Emilia's family! This will have her, and ****also her big brothers, Tristen and Jacob, and her little brother and sister, Amaya and Malachi. :) Her baby sisters, Claire & Grace, are still in the NICU.**

**Reminders: Amaya and Malachi are twins. Malachi's nickname is Kai. Also, pl****ease pay attention to the time & date stamps of this chapter, as the first part is a FLASHBACK and is NOT PRESENT time.**

**_Kids in this chapter:_**

**_Tristan: 11 years old.  
Jacob: 10 years old.  
Emilia: 8 years old.  
Amaya/Malachi: 6 years old._**

**Enjoy!**

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**_Present time: Monday, August 28th, 1978 (4:30 a.m.)  
Time in the dream: 35 years later – December 24th, 2013_**

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**_*Prentiss-Jareau Residence – Emilia's point of view*_**

"Henry Elijah!" I yell out when I walk into my kitchen to find it a complete disaster – flour is everywhere, cookie batter is all over the counter, and… is that… icing on the ceiling?

"Hi, Auntie Emmy!" The 3-year-old grins cheekily. "We's makin' cookies!"

I try to keep a straight face but… then I look to the left of him, where his daddy, Will, is standing, along with his little sister, 18-month-old Ellie.

"Oh, are you, now?" As I walk closer, I decide to just go for it. They are only little once. "Well, I think you might have missed a spot." Before the toddler can question what I mean, I scoop up some sugar cookie batter from the bowl and… smack it right in the middle of Will's forehead.

"Go, Emmy!" Ellie cheers, though it is muffled from her pacifier. She starts giggling, and it drops to the floor. She looks down at it, pouting for only a split-second before her attention is captured by her big brother yelling,

"Yay! Go Auntie Emmy!"

"Wow, Em. Thanks. Love you, too, _Sis_." Will goes cross-eyed as the batter drops into his eyes and falls down his cheek. I crack up at the sight and am about to throw a handful of flour at him when another voice stops all four of us.

"Eleanor Rose, Henry Elijah, William John, Emilia Elizabeth!" Jennifer Jareau walks into the kitchen, hands on her hip, and a _what the hell is going on in here_ look on her face.

Henry's eyes widen, "Oh, no," He whispers dramatically. "Daddy an' Emmy did it!" He points accusingly at us and Will throws his hands up in the air.

"Wha- Hey! Really, Little Dude?"

I grab him by the waist, tickling him.

"Emmy!"

"Nuh-uh. You tattled, you pay the price!"

He maneuvers up on to the counter, but I simply follow, tickling his sides and his neck, listening as the kitchen fills with the sounds of little kid laughter and squeals.

"What is going on here?" Jennifer asks as she picks Ellie up, looking at her husband who still has flour in his hair and cookie batter on his forehead.

"Um… Well…" The big bad detective stutters, grinning sheepishly. "We're making… cookies?"

"Are you, now?" She raises that eyebrow that gets the job done at work. "And what, uh… what part of the "cookie making process" entails you completely destroying our kitchen?"

As Will tries to come up with an answer, I cease my attack on Henry, letting him catch his breath, which was obviously a bad idea because the moment he is breathing normally again, he shouts,

"I twied to'stop him, Mommy! But he wouldn't wissen!" Then he turns to his daddy, mirroring Jennifer perfectly as he scolds, "Same on you, Daddy! Look at da mess you made!"

Again, I crack up with laughter as Will is sold out by his own three-year-old son, and Ellie joins in because, while she may be 18 months old, she understands what is being said and done perfectly.

"Wow, Little Man, just wow… Okay. That's fine. I see how it." Will pretends to be mad, crossing his arms and turning away, but Henry isn't fooled.

"You can't twick me, Daddy!" He proclaims. "If you don't tell da twoof, Aunt Penny can make yous bands attack go to zero!"

And that's it. I officially cannot fucking breathe. Jennifer's eyes widen at the threat and Will spins around, trying to look stern but failing miserably at it.

"Oh, my God," Jen mutters. "Penelope has corrupted our child. Will, please take Henry upstairs and clean him up, and – Emily! – _stop laughing_!"

I ignore her. Instead, I walk over to the bag of flour that is on the counter.

She immediately knows what I am going to do as she backs up. "Don't you _dare_, Em!" I dip my hand in the bag… "Emily!" Get a decent sized handful. "Emilia, I _mean it_!" And…

Throw it directly in her face, in the process, getting Ellie, also. Jennifer stands there with her eyes closed for several moments, just long enough for me to get worried. She then places Ellie down on the ground, telling the toddler to go get her daddy and bubba, and then she opens her eyes, looking directly at me…

That _fight_ is in her eyes, the twinkle that tells me I am screwed… She adds in a smirk as she speaks,

"Oh, it is _on_."

* * *

**_*** End of dream. Present time – August 28th, 1978 – normal point of view ***_**

Emilia wakes with a start. Though she is far from frightened. No, she feels _absolute elation_.

She was grown up in that dream. _Jenny_ was grown up in that dream. They were married and had kids and they were FBI agents and…

Emilia jumps out of her bed so quickly she gets tangled in her blankets, but then she is back on her feet, running out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and straight to her mommy and daddy's room.

She barrels into the room, scrambling up on the "big bed", shouting, "_Mamí_, _Papí_! Wake up!" Emilia starts jumping on the bed, jostling her mom awake. She then jumps and lands on her knees, scooting up to mere inches away from Elizabeth's face.

"_Mamí_!" She whisper-shouts. "Wake up! I had a dweam 'bout Jenny and she wasn't not 'live, and we were growed up and we lived together, and we were marweed to some peoples named Marc and Will, and we all had kids and – _Mamí_! Wake up!"

Even though she _is_ awake, it takes a full 15 seconds for Elizabeth to understand _what_ Emilia just said. She smiles sadly, thinking the dream was just her daughter's active imagination trying to fill in the holes and moments that will be missed with Jennifer.

She sits up a bit, pulling Emilia into her lap.

"Sweetheart, I know that you want Jennifer to be ok, and I know that you wish you were able to grow up with her and do all the fun things that you wanted to do, but, I am sorry, Emmy, you just won't be able to do that. Mister Michael and Miss Sandy have made the decision to let her go."

"But, _Mamí_! I had the dweam!"

"I know you had a dream, baby. And I am glad you did. I am happy that you have a way to keep Jenny alive in your memories. But, I–… I'm sorry, but I don't think that dream meant she is going to be ok. The doctors, they say that she is not growing properly, remember? And she has many sicknesses, which the medicines are not working properly for."

Emilia huffs at this. Why won't her mommy believe her? They were all grown up in that dream. That _has_ to mean something… right?

"But, _Mamí_!"

"No, sweetie. No, buts. I know you are probably having a hard time saying goodbye to Jennifer. And I am sorry about that. I wish this did not keep happening to you. I wish that you and Jennifer and all yours and her sisters and brothers could grow up and never know the pain of losing of a sibling. Unfortunately, baby, that is not how it is. And I am so, so sorry that Daddy and I cannot take this pain away from you and her family."

Elizabeth shifts Emilia to the side, scooting down herself and then patting the bed space between her and James.

"Now, how about you crawl under the blankets here, and you can sleep with me and Daddy for the rest of the morning?" Again, Emilia huffs but obediently climbs under the blankets, settling between her mom and dad for the next several hours.

* * *

**_*Later – 7: 45 a.m.*_**

Despite it being summer, Elizabeth's and James's daughter and son, 6-year-old twins, Amaya and Malachi, still wake up at the crack of dawn.

They are reminded of this when, before eight a.m., the twins come barreling into their room. Both parents quieten their rambunctious children, telling them not to wake their big sister.

"Mommy! What time is Miss Lynn supposta be here?" Amaya asks as the four make their way down to the kitchen. Lynn Stevens is their maid/live-in nanny/the-woman-who-loves-this-family-because-they-treat-her-_like-family_.

Lynn Stevens is a 50-year-old woman who works for the Prentisses. She cleans their house (when Liz and James do not have time themselves), watches the kids, and also lives out in their pool house, which is like her own little house.

Sometimes, when James or Elizabeth do not have time, Lynn comes and makes breakfast for them. This has happened several times in the last couple of months, since their youngest kids, Claire and Grace, were born.

Although, there are still times, like this week, Lynn goes to stay with her daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids. Just for a visit, because they live so close, and on those days, Lynn comes over at a specific time to "babysit" the Prentiss children.

Except that is not the reason for this week. This time, James and Elizabeth told Lynn she could go because they were unsure if or when they would need her to look after the kids. What with the bad news the Jareaus received last week… if Jennifer does end up, or already has passed away, then this week will be for funereal arrangements.

Liz and James always include the kids in those things, – well, actually, they include the older kids. So, if they do need Lynn, it will only be for Amaya and Malachi. Which she was fine with. Although, she hopes and prays that she will not get the call to come babysit because if she does, that would mean Jennifer has passed away.

And that is something Lynn does _not_ want to happen. Neither for sweet little Emilia nor for Jennifer's family.

Right now, though, Elizabeth answers her daughter's question with, "I'm not sure, sweetie. She may not come today. Remember when Daddy and I said that we are going to spend the day with everyone?"

Amaya nods enthusiastically, as she does for every question she is asked.

"Yeah, Mommy! We're gonna do to the whoole day together!" 'Maya skips through the hallway and dining room, into the kitchen, and straight over to the sink. She and Kai use their special stools to wash their hands, and then they await further instruction.

"Yes, that is right. We are going to have breakfast here, then head to the park when you siblings get up, and afterwards, we may–" Elizabeth holds up a hand, trying to hide her smile as the 6-year-old perks up. "–We may go to McDonald's for lunch. But!-"

Again, she holds up a hand. "But only if that is what everyone agrees to, all right? Since we went to McDonald's Thursday last week _and_ over the weekend, your bubbas and sissys may want something different, ok?"

Amaya sighs but relents instead of arguing. Anyway, they are about to make pancakes, and _that_ is _so much_ more fun than debating whether or not they will have lunch at McDonald's.

Since Maya has an allergy to eggs, some of the pancakes they make are vegan. Elizabeth gathers the ingredients and some bowls so that Kai and Maya can each get one.

Elizabeth firsts helps Malachi with his batter and making his non-vegan pancakes. She also sends Amaya to the living room so that there is absolutely no way for her to touch the eggs and have a reaction.

Once there are seven of the non-vegan pancakes made, she cleans up the counter, and quickly washes the skillet, while also making sure all the eggshells, egg residue, etc. are cleaned away. Then it is Amaya's turn.

"Maya! You can come back in, Darling!"

Amaya comes skidding into the kitchen, bouncing on her heels. She asks to turn the TV in the kitchen on, as the cartoons she was watching is her favorite episode. Elizabeth switches it on and turns the channel then the two go about making the vegan pancakes

Elizabeth helps both Kai and Maya mix, stir, and then each twin gets to pour two pancakes each.

"Remember, slowly and evenly… Now, smooth it out with the spatula."

She is extra attentive as she pours the batter for the first pancake. "Like that, Mommy?"

"Just like that. Look at you, Big Girl!

"It can't be too big 'cause then I won't be able to eat it! We would hafta give it to the Giant from _Jack and the Beanstalk_!"

"You're a silly girl, aren't you?

Once they are poured, Elizabeth instructs her on how long to wait before flipping. She has been doing this since she was four years old so by now, Amaya is pretty much a good pancake "marker" although, sometimes, her fine motor skills (holding the bowl, pouring not too much, etc.) need some work.

By the time the pancakes, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and orange juice (fresh from the orange tree outside) are made, everyone else is awake. James comes downstairs with Emilia on his back, and, being goofy, Tristan is giving Jacob a piggyback ride, as well.

They all eat, chatter about their plans, with some arguing thrown in here and there, and then help clear away the dishes before heading out to tend to the animals on their farm as part of the kids' and James's morning chore.

After that, they get dressed and head to the park for a couple of hours. Elizabeth and James walk with them while they all ride their bikes or scooters. Thankfully, the park is only about 15 minutes away, so if something happens, James can run back to the house, grab their vehicle, and be back all within 20–25 minutes.

* * *

**_*1 hour later – Elizabeth's point of view*_**

Today has been a pretty good day so far. It only about 11:30 in the morning. The kids are having a blast here at the park. Jacob and Amaya are playing with their soccer ball while Tristen does basketball over on the court, and Malachi plays with a friend from school.

The kids play for a long while. It really is incredible the energy they all seem to have. James and I go back and forth between watching the kids and speaking to each other.

We finally gather the kids up to go home after being here for three hours. It well past 1 in the afternoon, and the kids are hungry, hot, and tired. James makes a quick lunch of mac-'n-cheese, corn, and potatoes while I get blankets and pillows ready in the living room where, I am sure, the kids will crash while watching movies.

At 2:15 in the afternoon, however, I can no longer ignore it. I tell James that I am going to call Michael and get an update. I dial the number for Angus's office and ask him to page Michael. Surprisingly, though, Michael is already in the office, having come in there to call _me_. He sounds breathless and…

_Excited_.

And God does it give me chills. This is not the voice of a man who just spent hours with his infant daughter, only to watch as she took her last breath. No, this is the voice of a man who was given some great news, whose mind is on the farthest thing from death.

"_Elizabeth, I was just going to call you! I have some great news, but I think you may need to sit down first._" I tell him to hold on a moment as I lay the phone down on the little table sitting under it. I go the dining room, grab a chair, and bring it to the phone.

James notices what I am doing and follows, quietly watching me.

"Okay, Michael, go ahead…"

He lets out a breath and then…

"_The medicine is working, Liz… They took one last set of x-rays just to see, because I asked. They found less evidence of pneumonia, Liz. And they said it was possible the pictures came out wrong, so they would give her another dose and check back in a couple of hours._"

I honestly do not know what to say here. It sounds like this is wonderful news but… I cannot get my hopes up. If I do, if Emilia finds out there is even an _inkling_ of a possibility that Jennifer is getting better then… It will absolutely _crush her_ if Jennifer does, in fact, end up passing away. So, I just listen.

"_They took another set of x-rays three hours later, and it was true, Liz. The pneumonia was even _more_ cleared up! The doctor also said that her ear infections look to be clearing up. God, can you believe it?! I just–… Oh, God, I don't even know what to say!_ _They have also…_"

His voice breaks here, and I feel a tear slip down my cheeks. James comes over, silently asking what is going on. I hand him the phone and Michael relays to him what he just told me. The look of shock on my husband's face describes exactly how I am feeling.

And it only gets better when Michael tells us the last part of the news he has for us…

"_They have been allowing Sandy and myself to feed her. Of course, it goes into her feeding tube, but…_ _She took a full three ounces more formula than what she has been taking. Three more, Liz. The doctor said if she keeps this up, then there will be reason why she can't continue to grow. She just has to fight. I think she is showing us just how different from her sisters and brothers she will be._"

And that is what keeps looping in my head as we hang up and center ourselves enough to go back to the living room.

She just has to keep fighting.

Maybe Emilia's dream will come true, afterall…

* * *

**And there you have it. Emilia had a dream of the future. She and Jen were in the FBI, married, and both had kids. Will the dream come true? Do you think this little girl will get to grow up along side a baby girl who is already her best friend?**

**Next is major time skip, the most we have had so far. It won't be up for sometime as I am running out of prewritten chapters. But I do have ****the chapters planned out to #35, so they ****should be fairly easy to write. I think you are really going to like what I have in store for the future.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	19. The Progress (1) – Jules, Luke, Jennifer

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including doctors, and extra siblings, cousins, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

* * *

**Thank you to those who reviewed. Here is a much happier chapter! And we will be moving forward quickly over the next couple of chapters. After that, around 23, it will 1979, and some VERY important things will happen.**

**To _sweetkid45_, it was not a joke, I promise. :) And this chapter explains more of what was said. To _Bohogal1998_, yes! I love doing Will as the nice guy. I wish I had done it originally, but I will definitely make up for it in this Universe. To _Daisyangel_ and _Kensi1997_, thank you both! This is another happy chapter, as well, and I hope you all enjoy. :)**

**I want to give a shoutout to _Bogogal1998_ who has reviewed on all the chapters. And to _Hetwaszoietsals_ who reviewed several chapters, and also _Daisyangel_ and _Kensi1997_ who have both reviewed on several of the chapters, and a big shoutout to _Sweetkid45_ who, although it was touch and go, decided to stick around (thank you!). I hope you enjoy it from here on out.**

* * *

**Notes: Sandy is not at the Hospital with Michael in the last part because school has started and she needs to be home in East Allegheny for the kids. Two timeskips, also. And a milestone is reached. :)**

**N****otes 2: I am having a off couple of weeks. I think this staying home 24/7 unless it is necessary to leave is finally getting to me. Here's hoping that I can get my sleep schedule back in order!**

**Baby Stats:**

**Juliet: 12 weeks old (adjusted age 3 weeks). 4.2 lbs. 17.5 inches long.  
Lucas are 12 weeks old (adjusted age 3 weeks old) 4.6 lbs. 17 ¼ inches long.  
Jennifer: 11 weeks old (adjusted age 3 weeks). 2.4 lbs. 15 inches long.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**4 weeks later – Friday, September 22**__**nd**__**, 1978  
**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital*_**

"How is my favorite dad?"

Nurse Jo is especially enthusiastic because today is a wonderful day.

Today is the day she tells Michael and Sandy that Jennifer, once again, has gained two full ounces. She is now 2 pounds, 4 ounces.

Since that day when Michael called Elizabeth back at the end of August, Jennifer has been growing steadily. She gains exactly 2 ounces, no more, no less, a week, and exactly ¼ an inch each week. Except this week, of course.

This week she stepped it up and grew ¾ of an inch. She is officially 15 inches long.

Jennifer is also tolerating time outside her warming incubator, keeps her blood pressure stabilized most of the time, and has stepped up on her feedings. She is not quite to what she _should be_ eating, but she was 8 weeks premature, which means she is a great place as of right now.

She just needs 1 pound, 6 ounces, and to keep her temperature/blood pressure up, before she can graduate.

And today…

Well today is wonderful. Because today, not only do the Jareaus get good news about Jennifer, but…

Juliet and Lucas are just days away from being able to leave the _Nursery_.

Yes, that is right. Things with more than just Jennifer have happened in the past four weeks. Juliet and Lucas are now 4 pounds, 2 ounces, and 4 pounds, 6 ounces, respectively.

They have graduated the NICU, which Emilia was absolutely thrilled about. She helped get them dressed in their cap and gown, and she was at the front of the line as parents, children, nurses, and doctors celebrated with dancing, confetti, and goodbye wishes.

Michael gives a greeting to Nurse Jo. Sandy stopped off at the Nursery to see Jules and Luke, and to talk to Doctor Jacobs. Then, she and Michael will talk to each other, and switch, with him going to the Nursery, and her going to the NICU.

"Give me some good news, Jo. I know you have it…"

Nurse Jo's smile widens.

"Yes, yes, I certainly do." She walks him over to Jennifer's cot, which is open. "You have a fighter on your hands, Michael. I know I say that all the time, but you really truly do. Jennifer has gained, once again, 2 ounces. She is 2 pounds, 4 ounces in weight. And, – are you ready for this? – she is now 15 inches long."

Michael blinks at this. He was expecting just a ¼ of an inch, which would put her at 14 ½ inches. But, he realizes, so far Jennifer has done things _her way_. She gains weight when _she_ chooses to, she grows when _she_ decides, and…

Though she is 11 weeks old now, her adjusted age, which is her age minus the number of weeks of her prematurity, is actually 3 weeks. Just a tiny little thing who would not be even smiling or giggling or anything yet.

"Look at you, _Peanut_," He whispers. "Daddy is so proud of you. You are getting to be such a big girl, so just keep on, ok? Then, once you are big enough, you can come home, and show us all how you kick butt. Show us how you don't listen to anyone but yourself."

After spending a few more moments with Jennifer, even getting to hold her and feed her through her _G-tube_, Michael says he will be back in a few minutes. He leaves the NICU and goes to the Nursery where he sees Sandy holding Juliet.

"Hey, babe. How is our _Ladybug_ today?"

Sandy beams at him, absolutely _glowing_. It must have been good news for her to be _this_ happy.

"They are saying any day now, Michael! Any day, and they are going to be able to come home. Lucas passed his carseat test today, but Dr. Jacobs said he wants Lucas to gain at least 3 more ounces, to be almost 5 pounds. And as soon as he does that, and Juliet is able to pass the test, then we can take them home!"

Michael smiles down at Lucas, as the infant sleeps peacefully in his crib. He and Juliet are now 12 weeks old, however, their adjusted age would also only be 3 weeks old.

"How is Daddy's _Mister Man_, huh? Did you hear the good news from mommy? You and sissy will get to go home in a few days. You just have to keep growing, okay? Just keep getting bigger and stronger. You show them mean ole doctors who say you won't grow much who the _real_ boss is."

"What about… Jennifer?"

Yet another thing has changed in the past four weeks. While Sandy still is… unable to… hold Jennifer, or even speak to her for very long, Sandy has, at least, began calling her by her name, instead of just referring to her "that thing" or something equally disconcerting.

Michael's smile grows as he says, "She grew a whole inch and a half since last week, babe. And she is now 2 pounds, 4 ounces in weight. Our baby girl is showing them all who she is – a Jareau. And Jareaus,–" He places an arm around her shoulders. "– Jareaus are tough. They kick ass. And she is doing just that."

He sighs as he gazes upon his son, then his daughter, and finally, he gives in. He picks Lucas up and he cradles him, speaking softly.

"I love you, Bud. So much. More than you could ever know. Just keep growing, ok? Keep on so eventually, you can come home, and be able to play with your bubbas and sissies."

* * *

_**2 weeks later – Friday, October 6**__**th**__**, 1978  
Juliet & Lucas are 14 weeks old – adjusted age 5 weeks old (4.6 lbs. & 5 lbs.)  
Jennifer is 13 weeks old – adjusted age 5 weeks old (2.6 lbs.)**_

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Children's Hospital – Michael's point of view – Baby Nursery*_**

I meet Angus in the Nursery. We were here exactly one week ago, when his granddaughters, Claire and Grace, got to go home. And today…

Well, today is the _I_ hear those words.

Today is the day that I arrive at the hospital by myself (Sandy needs to stay home for when the kids get home from school) and leave with two extra occupants in the car.

"Misser Michael!"

And of course, it is made better by Emilia being here. Emilia is homeschooled, which is why she is here at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday.

"Hey, Miss 'Millie! How are you today?"

"Amazin'! I got to eat _McDonald's_ for-for… this mornin'! How you are?"

I chuckle at her enthusiasm. "You know what? I think I am feeling pretty amazing, too. Now," I hold out a hand, which she eagerly takes, and say, "Why don't we go see how much _more_ amazing this day can get?"

I converse with Angus as we walk to the Nursery. James and Liz are at work today, James is a Pediatrician and Elizabeth is an Ambassador, so Emily is hanging out with her grandfather here at the Hospital.

It really is interesting, what all she does as a "schooling" on the days she comes here, but I won't get into that today.

Today is all about happiness and excitement, and a milestone that, four months ago, I never thought we would actually see.

We go into the Nursery and I sit two carseats – Juliet and Lucas's carseats – down. I greet Nurse Becky, who is the nurse for in here, specifically.

"Hello, Mr. Jareau, how are you doing this morning?"

"He's wonderful, Nurse Becky!" Emilia interrupts. "And so I am. How are you doin'?"

Angus steps up to pull her back, gently reminding her, "Manners, Emilia."

"Oh, yeah, sorry!"

I look to Nurse Becky. "She is right – I am pretty amazing today. I hear that you have some great news?"

"Oh, yes!" She gestures to the two carseats I have brought in. They are the _Infant Love Seats_. Ones that were purchased in 1972, when Roslyn and Gabriel were infants.

We spray painted them to make them look new and also color code them. One is pink and grey, the other green and grey. Emilia helped me pick the colors. Jennifer also has one that is purple and grey.

"You will finally get to put those to some use! If you would like, you can come right over here. I will tell you what your son, Lucas's, and your daughter, Juliet's current weight and length is, if you would like."

I nod for her to go ahead.

"Well, we weighed Little Miss _Ladybug_ and _Mister Man_ this morning. The final weight and length for Juliet is 4 pounds, six ounces. And she is 17.5 inches long, which is about 2 inches shorter than a newborn baby would be. Her weight is just over two pounds shy of a newborn. That is _much_ better than, say, four or five pounds underweight."

Nurse Becky points to Lucas next.

"Your son, Lucas, is an even 5 pounds in weight. We would consider this a low birthweight, which is a very good thing for a preemie. He is also 17 ¼ inches in length. Again, this is just over 2 inches shorter than a full-term newborn baby boy's length."

"Woah, they've gotted so big, Misser Michael!"

"Yes, they certainly have."

"Now, next up is signing some paperwork, going over some things, like how to care for them, particularly Lucas's feeding tube, and other such important notes."

I nod to all of this. "Yes, Ma'am, Dr. Jacobs went over some of that with me."

"Good. Well, there are two things you can do now. You and I, and Dr. Jacobs, can go over those things first, or you can bathe Lucas and Juliet, and get them dressed in their "Going Home" outfit before we get to the second part."

I look to Emilia to see what she wants to do, as I have plenty of time and am in no rush to get through my "to-do" list. Of course, she picks bathing Jules and Luke. We go over to the side of the Nursery, where a sink and bathing products are.

"Now, you want to lay Lucas in the water, like so…" She demonstrates by placing him gently into the bathtub. "Be sure to get limited or no water in his _G-tube_. To do that, make sure it has this sealer cap before you lay him in the water. It will be the same for Jennifer and Juliet. And just gently wash his arms, legs, and tummy with a warm, wet cloth, and some baby bodywash."

I do exactly that.

"Hello, _Mister Man_. Daddy is so proud of you." Lucas wiggles his arm when I pour water onto it. It makes Emilia giggle. "Do you feel that, sweetie? I bet it feels good to have a nice warm bath. You know, something fantastic is happening today…" I rinse my son off, picking him up gently, and laying him on the towel that is on the counter next to the sink.

"Hi, Lukey!" Emilia whispers. "Guess what! You get to go home today! Right, Misser Michael?"

"Yes, that is right. You and your sissy, – Juliet, that is, not Jenny, – are going home today! You will get to sleep in your new bed with some comfy pjs. You will get to see your big brothers and big sisters. Oh, they are going to be _so_ thrilled to see you and Juliet!"

Emilia helps me dress Lucas in a light blue onesie, after we put a diaper on him. Nurse Becky shows me how to button up the onesie around his _G-tube_. Next, Juliet gets her bath, and is dressed in a similar onesie that is light pink. Juliet has a _G-tube_, as well, however, it is for administering her medicine. She takes her feeds by bottle.

After their baths, we place them in their carseats. Emilia helps me buckle them in. Then, I speak to Nurse Becky and Dr. Jacobs about homecare for the both of them.

They tell me the basics – be gentle, place them sleeping on their backs, do not use pillows or stuffed animals at this age, and we may use pacifiers to reduce the risk of SIDs.

Then they move on to the most important. Things like how to tell if Lucas is not receiving all of the formula through his _G-tube_, when to administer their medicine, and what to do if it seems their _G-tubes_ have either come lose, become infected, or has shifted.

It is most important that we keep an eye on it, as it may become infected on the inside, which will require immediate hospital care.

"You are already a father to five other children," Dr. Jacobs says. "So, I am sure you know how to hold an infant, how to dress them, feed them, how to place them safely in their carseat, and so on. Just make sure you speak to your older children how they should hold or play with their siblings. Juliet and Lucas have grown, but they are still smaller than what they should be. So it is most imperative that you be gentle with them."

I nod in agreement to everything, jotting down details here and there in my notebook.

"Be sure that you gently clean around it with a warm cloth." Dr. Jacobs adds. "Use gentle soap and warm water, and also try not to submerge it as this may get water inside and cause problems. You may clean around and inside it with a Q-tip."

I make a note of that, adding, _pick up Q-tips_ from the Dollar Tree.

"And about the _G-tube_, could you repeat the signs that it may be infected or have shifted lose?"

"Yes, certainly. Usually, it will begin to have foul smelling discharge, swelling around the tube, and/or the skin around the tube's entrance may be warmer than the rest of their skin."

Dr. Jacobs waits a moment while I jot down those notes before adding,

"If your baby, either Juliet or Lucas, seems to be more… sensitive, while getting feeds or medicine, such as when the tube's entrance is being jostled while inserting the syringe, and they have not shown this before, then that would also be a sign. It may be that it has become infected directly underneath the entrance and is not visible just yet."

He then goes over how to tell if the tube is lose, and then, finally, after nearly 45 minutes of questions, details, answers, lists of what to do or not to do, and filling out paperwork, along with getting their numbers in case I have any other questions, I hear the words I have been waiting for since the day Juliet and Lucas were born.

"Well, I believe that is everything. Now, go on and get out of here, and I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Jareau. Hopefully, it will not be long before we are having this discussion about your daughter, Jennifer."

Emilia lets out a squeal the moment we are outside the Nursery.

"This is so cool! Can I go home with you today, pease, Misser Michael?"

I just chuckle and motion to Angus.

"You have to ask your grandfather first, 'Millie." Angus says he will have to phone Elizabeth or James to make sure it is all right. Emilia speaks to them, and they give the go ahead. It will save Angus from having to drive her home, himself, meeting them at the designated hallway point, and then turning around to come back to Philly, which will be a five-hour drive in all.

Angus comes outside with us. He installs Emilia's booster seat, helps me install the carseats, then reminds Emilia to be on her best behavior. She says goodbye, and we head out, stopping at _Burger King_ for some dinner about halfway through the drive. It will be nearly six before we arrive home, and I am not going to want to cook dinner tonight.

We load up with the food. Getting eight people's worth of food cost a fortune, and I hear Emilia giggle at the look on the window server's face when he only sees myself and Emilia in the car, but hands us about six bags worth of food.

"It is for my children, at home," I explain which only makes Emilia giggle more. She takes her Orange Soda from me, choking on it a little because she cannot stop giggling.

"You have a good day, Sir," The man tells me, and I pull away, shaking my head.

"Go easy there, 'Millie."

"He pwobably thought we are feeding a whole soccer team!"

I just shake my head at her silliness.

* * *

_**3 hours later – East Allegheny, Pennsylvania**_

* * *

**_*Jareau Residence – Michael's point of view cont.*_**

We pull up to the house. Emilia is bouncing in her seat. Sandra comes outside to greet us along with my mom. My dad is at their house with the kids, and will bring them home once we are inside and settled.

They had no idea that Juliet and Lucas were coming home today. I think at least three of them think Juliet and Lucas were not coming home until Monday.

As I open one side of the back doors, and Sandy opens the other, I smile at Emilia and she frowns back. She is still mad at my wife for the things Sandra said several months ago, that time when Sandra called two of our children, well… _you know_.

"I don't like her, Misser Michael," She whispers to me covertly, and I have to mash my lips together to keep from laughing.

"Come on, 'Millie, let's go inside." I take a carseat and Sandra gets the other. My mom and Emilia gather up the _Burger King_ bags, and, once we are inside, Mom coos over both Juliet and Lucas.

"Look at the two of you! How precious are you in your matching onesies and, gosh, Juliet, look at that pretty dark hair!"

It takes us almost 25 minutes, but finally, we are finished setting up – the banner, some balloons, and the tablecloth are out. I ring over to mom and dad's house, telling Dad he can bring the kids home. They arrive 10 minutes later.

He sticks his head in the doorway, making sure we are ready. Once we say we are, he tells the kids to close their eyes and then guides them inside the house.

"Surprise!"

Their faces are priceless.

Roslyn is the one to recover first.

"The babies came home!" She runs over. "Hi, Julie! Hi, Luke! Remember me? I'm your big sister!"

"But, Dad!" Elijah exclaims. "I thought they were not coming home 'til Monday?"

"Well, they grew faster than we thought they would. Lucas is officially 5 pounds and about 17 inches, while Juliet is 4 pounds, 6 ounces, and 17 and a half inches long."

"Wow, they've grown so much!" Caleb comes closer, bending down between the babies. "Hello. I am your big brother, Caleb, and I am so happy you are home."

"Daddy, I hold, pease?"

Before I can answer Gabriel, I hear Sandra say, "No, you cannot." And I get ready to step in, to remind her not to speak to her child that way, when she continues with, "The doctors warned us of how dangerous germs are for Juliet and Lucas right now. They are younger and weaker than a normal infant. Maybe tomorrow, everyone can take a shower, put clean outfits on, and then you may hold your brother and sister."

I am actually stunned for a moment. God, I _should not be_, but…

I am.

Gabriel seems to be, as well. I look to Emilia and see her wide eyes, and…

Gabe nods his agreement. He seems… at loss for words. Sandra spoke to him nicely for the first time in months, and, the poor guy, it totally threw him off track.

Maybe this is the start of her becoming better. Maybe having two of our three babies home will encourage her to being a better mother.

Maybe… I can get her to reconsider going to see Dr. Susanna Oliver, the therapist I and the kids have been seeing for the past couple of months.

As I notice Roslyn about to protest, I step in, discreetly. I don't want to watch Sandra ruin things by snapping in aggravation to Roslyn.

"Mom is right; you all have been at school, and your hands and clothes have picked up a lot of germs, even those we cannot see or may not know are there. Jules's and Luke's immune systems, the part of their body that fights off these germs and sicknesses, are not as strong as ours are. So, you may speak to your baby brother and baby sister, but you will need to wait to hold them until tomorrow. Does everyone understand?"

We get nods in return. I know they are dissatisfied, but what I said is the truth. We have been triple-times the amount of protective that we were when the older kids came home. None of them were more than three weeks premature. Their immune systems were developed unlike Juliet's, Lucas's, and even Jennifer's.

We will probably get plenty of looks and comments about how we are "helicopter parents" or "overprotective", or even, my favorite from back when my sister, Martha, was a baby – "hypochondriacs".

For now, the kids speak to their siblings, telling them stories and everything they will be doing. They even discuss what they are going to dress up as for Halloween, which is in about 3 and a half weeks.

Which just so happens to be Caleb's birthday as well as Emma. They are turning 12, and I just cannot believe it. Emma is in the sixth grade while Caleb is in Elijah's grade – fifth – because he was held back.

I have three kids in Middle School, and Roslyn is in the first grade while Gabriel, who was also held back, is in Kindergarten.

Gosh… It will be probably no time before Juliet and Lucas, and hopefully, Jennifer, are in preschool, then Kindergarten, and moving onto the first grade, learning how to read and write…

I sit back on the couch, relaxing as I listen to my favorite sounds – my wife conversing with my mom, Roz and Emma's laughter, Eli and Cal telling stories to the babies, and my dad talking to Gabe about what he did in school.

Now all we need is for Jennifer to come home.

I hope she continues to grow at the rate she is. Getting bigger, stronger, healthier.

Because our family, _all_ of them, being home is all I want for Christmas. She has two months.

Maybe a Christmas miracle really will happen, and she will "be home for the Holidays".

* * *

**Juliet and Lucas got to go home! They are getting bigger every day, and now officially have graduated from the Hospital. The next chapter is also ****_very_**** important, and then in #20 a big milestone is reached for JJ.**

**I have decided that Emilia speaks the way she does because English is not her first language. She has been overseas (London, Arabia, Italy, etc.), so she is fluent in several languages such as Spanish, French, etc., and English is more of a "second" langauge to her.**

**I promise the chapters will be heavy on the happiness from here on out, and I think you are REALLY going to like the turn this story takes around chapter 27. ;)**

**Please review and let me know what you thought. :)**


	20. The Progress (2) – Jennifer

_**Chapter 17 – The Progress (2)**_

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs, including doctors, and extra siblings, cousins, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

* * *

**Thank you to those who reviewed! We are almost to 60! Also, a reminder that if you are enjoying the story, please be sure to follow it, as well. Now that I have this story planned out for further into the future, I will be prewriting chapters, and updating frequently!**

**To _sweetkid45_, oh, Emilia will, most definitely, be so far past the moon and among the stars excited when JJ gets to come home. :) To _Daisyangel_, thank you! I figured it was time for Sandy to be nice for one, and speak politely/in a nicer tone of voice to Gabe. And lastly, to _Bohogal1998_ and _Kensi1997_, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)**

* * *

**Reminders: Emma-Jo is JJ's big sister. She is 12 years old. Emilia is Elizabeth and James Prentiss's daughter. She is 8 years old.**

**Notes: A HUGE milestone is reached by Jennifer, one that her entire family, plus Emilia and the Prentiss family, have been waiting for since she was born!**

**Baby Stats:**

**Juliet: 20 weeks old (adjusted age 11 weeks). 5 lbs. 2 ounces 18 inches long.  
Lucas: 20 weeks old (adjusted age 11 weeks). 5 lbs. 9 ounces. 17.5 inches long.  
Jennifer: 19 weeks old (adjusted age 11 weeks). 4 lbs. 2 ounces. 16¾ inches long.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_6 weeks later – November 19th, 1978_**

* * *

**_*Philadelphia Chidlren's Hospital*_**

Today is a good day.

Today is a _great_ day.

A day that the families who are closest to the Jareaus have hoped to happen since Jennifer's birth.

Today is November nineteenth, 1978.

Today, Juliet and Lucas are 20 weeks old. Jennifer is 19 weeks old.

And today?

Jennifer weighs a whopping four pounds and 2 ounces. She is just centimeters shy of being 17 inches long, and the fact that she made it to that weight and length is absolutely _amazing_.

She is still the "baby" of the family, though, since Lucas is 17.5 inches and Jules is 18 inches long.

Michael enters the Nursery with Caleb, Emma-Jo, Elijah, and Emilia. Roslyn is not here as she has a cold and could not come, while Gabriel is grounded for misbehaving last week.

Michael did not think this was something he should be grounded "from", but he is exhausted from driving back and forth to the Hospital, which adds up to be being 10 hours a day, not including the two hours he spends _with_ Jennifer, and dealing with five older kids and two infants.

He knows it will be even _harder_ once he actually starts back to work – he is surgeon at the Pittsburgh Hospital – but for now, his boss is continuing to give him Paid Leave.

He just did not have the energy to argue with Sandy about it.

Since Jennifer is still in the NICU, Michael and the kids wash up, put on their gowns, gloves, and masks, and then they enter the NICU.

"Good morning, Michael!" Jo greets. "I see you have some of Miss Jennifer's big siblings here today."

"Hi, Nurse Jo," Elijah waves while Emilia and Caleb go to Jennifer's cot, and Emma-Jo just walks around looking at the other babies.

"We have some great news for you today, Michael. Some wonderful news about Miss Jennifer."

Before he can ask _'what'_, as he genuinely forgot about how much progress Jennifer is making, and that this day was coming up, Emilia squealing gets his attention.

"Misser Michael, look!"

She is gesturing widely to Jennifer's cot. Michael walks closer, slowly, and…

His breath catches.

A sticker, round, purple and pink, with white letters that spell out, "NICU Graduate" is stuck to the side of the plastic top, next to hand-drawn pictures made by Roslyn, Emma-Jo, Emilia, and Emilia's little brother, Malachi.

Michael snaps his head towards Jo, and the nurse grins.

"Congratulations, Mr. Jareau, your daughter is officially strong enough, big enough, and capable enough to graduate from the NICU."

His heart speeds up. Those words are ones he wished and hoped to hear for over _four months_.

But now?

Now that he has actually heard them?

Now that it is true, that _they_ are true, that this actually _happening_?

"Ar-Are you sure?" He chokes it out, turning to fully face Nurse Jo. "I-I mean… Maybe she _isn't_ strong enough. Have you double-checked that the weighing machine is working? An-And maybe you just got the numbers mixed up. There is–" Michael breathes out harshly. "There's no way she is ready."

Instead of being offended by the words, Nurse Jo just smiles. She can understand his trepidation.

After all, it was less than 3 months ago that Dr. Jacobs was saying that Jennifer probably would not make it through the next 48 hours.

It was less than _three months_ ago that Sandy and Michael had their children, parents, and siblings come say goodbye to Jennifer, and were so _sure_ that they would be planning her funeral by the end of that same week.

And now?

Now it is almost _Thanksgiving_. Next month will be their first _Christmas_.

So yeah, she can understand.

And she smiles reassuringly, as she says, "Yes, Michael, I am sure. Jennifer is officially _over_ 4 pounds, at 4.2 lbs. And she is just shy of being 17 inches long. She can keep her temperature and blood pressure stable, she is able to tolerate time outside her warming incubator, and she can receive feeds and medicine through her _G-tube_. She has no sicknesses at the moment, her x-rays are clear…"

Jo walks closer, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"She's ready, Michael. Your baby is leaving the NICU. She is a Graduate. You should be proud. You have a very strong baby girl, and she is going to continue to show everyone just _how_ strong she is."

It is not long before Dr. Jacobs is making the announcement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, today, we say '_farewell_' and '_good luck_' to a member who has proven to us that, sometimes, the doctors, the tests, the books, the _professionals_ are wrong."

He steps closer to Jennifer's cot, and a few parents cheer once they realize _who_ the graduate is today.

"Today, we say '_farewell_' to Jennifer Hope Ann-Elisabeth Jareau." A pause for the cheers, which Emilia and Emma-Jo join in on. "If you would like to participate, please follow me outside, to where you can pick up a confetti popper and noise maker."

Jennifer is dressed in her gown and hat. Michael remembers that day, 3 months ago, when he was looking at all the letters and pictures drawn by people or kids of the Hospital.

Now the wish for Jennifer being able to wear her cap and gown has come true.

All the kids in the room flock to the doors. They line up, grab confetti poppers, and start down the hallway, with Jennifer and her family at the start of the line.

"Look at all these people, Dad!" Emma-Jo gasps. "Who are they?"

Michael turns to look at them as they approach the Nursery door. Dads with kids on their shoulders, moms giving piggyback rides, older kids cheering Jennifer's name…

People, _strangers_, who are as happy about Jennifer graduating as the baby girl's _actual_ relatives are.

"Family," He whispers to her. "These are our family."

"But we don't know them… ?" She kind of trails off in a questioning tone.

Michael wraps an arm around Emma, as the parents, children, doctors, and nurses bid them '_farewell_' and '_good luck_'.

"No, we don't know them _personally_, but everyone in that room goes through similar things in similar ways. They are our _special_ family. Family who will _always_ be able to say, _'I get it. I've been there, too_.'"

They turn and enter the Nursery after that.

They are one step closer to the end. Just a little longer, and Jennifer will be home for the Holidays.

* * *

**I literally cried while writing this. She is older now, stronger, and healthier. She is in the regular Nursery, and likes just a little more before she can officially come home!**

**Next up is a MAJOR milestone. What do you think it could be?**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**Extra notes: **

**This chapter is in celebration of having almost 1,000,000 words archived/published. Thank you to EVERYONE who has ever read, reviewed on, followed, favorited, suggested ideas, etc. for any of my stories. I would not be here without you all!**

**Also, I want to give a shoutout to those of you who are down in Louisiana or Mexico, and anywhere else where Tropical Storm Cristobal has or will be hitting. It is supposed to hit sometime probably within the next 24 hours. Please stay safe down there!**


	21. The Homecoming (Christmas 1978)

**Weather conditions for Christmas 1978: Snowy**

**Disclaimers: I do not Criminal Minds or its characters, including Elizabeth Prentiss, or Sandy and Roslyn Jareau. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's extended family, siblings, the doctors, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: K+**

* * *

**I will update this section later but for now, I would like to give a shoutout to my reviewers/readers so far. Thank you all so much! I am having so, so much fun writing this, and I hope you are all enjoying just as well. We are up to nearly 65 reviews, for only 20 chapters ****_– _**** that is amazing, thank you!**

**Here is the milestone we _–_ you ****_–_**** have been rooting for and waiting on since Jenny was born! I hope you all enjoy it. I have lots in store for our girls!**

* * *

**Baby Stats:**

**Juliet: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.9 lbs. 18 inches long.  
Lucas: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.8 lbs. 17.5 inches long.  
Jennifer: 24 weeks old (5 months) – adjusted age 16 weeks (3 months). 5.4 lbs. 16.8 inches long.**

**Notes: I meant to have it up on the eighth, but life got in the way. I've been trying to spend more time ****_off_**** the electronics, so I am not working on things as frequently. This chapter is on the short side, but here it is – the chapter you have been waiting for! Also, more of the Prentiss Family! :)**

**Btw, I looked up the weather for this day, and tried to get as close to the actual forecast as possible.**

**_Kids in this chapter:_**

**_Jacob: 10 years old (turning 11)  
Emilia: 8 years old_**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**1 month later – Thursday, December 21**__**st**__**, 1978  
(4 days left)**_

* * *

**_*Prentiss Residence – early afternoon*_**

"_Mamí_!"

Elizabeth sighs as she comes through the kitchen from the laundry room.

"Yes, Emilia?"

"I wanna go outside!"

It is not often that Elizabeth and James's oldest daughter throws a fit, but even at 8 years old, sometimes it is the only thing she wants to do, _all day long_.

Especially on days like today.

When the Weather Channel forecasted today's weather as not only "high winds", but literally marked them as "dangerously high winds". And that coupled with it being December and only 33° outside?

It means that all 5 older Prentiss children are stuck indoors. The youngest two, Claire and Grace, are 5 months old, and do not have an opinion. They are also currently taking a nap in their nice, warm, cozy Nursery.

"I am sorry, Emilia," Elizabeth tells her for the fifth time. "It is far too windy out. You will catch a cold or an earache for sure, if you were to go outside. And do you remember that the Weatherman said the winds were going to be dangerous, higher than they usually are?"

"Yeah, well, maybe he is dumbbutt, and a liar!" The little girl pouts.

"Emilia Elizabeth!"

And that is another thing that does not happen often.

In fact, it is less than 10 times that Emilia has been "middle-named" in her entire eight years, and five months.

"I wanna go outside, Mom!"

Elizabeth has had it.

"No, Ma'am, you are certainly _not_ going outside! Your father and I have both explained why, and that is final. You may go play in your room or the basement, or you can go to the Calm-Down Corner, until you can act appropriately."

"I wanna go OUTSIDE! MOMMY! I… wanna… GO… OUTSIDE!"

"Emilia, come on!"

The little girl actually pauses in her tantruming to see who yelled her name this time.

It's Tristen. He could not hear the TV in the living room due to her yelling. and came to see what the big deal is.

"Just hush already! It's too windy and too cold, and Mom and Dad have said _no_ a thousand times, so just drop it already!" And with that, Tristen huffs, spins around, and stomps back to the living room.

I… WANNA… go… OUTSIDE!"

It would be amusing that she alternates between screaming words or just speaking them, if it were not the sixth time in the last several hours that this conversation had happened.

And because of that, Elizabeth sighs as now, James comes up from the basement, where he was playing with Amaya and Malachi.

"What is going on in here?!" He demands, looking from his oldest daughter to his wife.

"Your child has decided to tantrum today." Elizabeth tells him simply, getting fed up with Emilia's behavior.

Usually she would have the patience to deal with it but not today. She is exhausted from the last several months' events, and just does not have the willpower to stay calm in this situation.

"Emilia Elizabeth Prentiss, what has gotten into you today?"

"I wanna go outside, Daddy!"

James tries to explain, gently, with, "It is too windy out right now, 'Milia," But her shouting tells him he needs to be "serious Papa" at this moment.

"Emilia Elizabeth, I want you to go up to your room, and sit on your bed until you have calmed down. Then, you may come down and join the rest of the family, once you have calmed down."

Emilia rolls her eyes, defiantly crossing her arms, and stands her ground for all of 15 seconds before James adopts the "don't you _dare_" look.

And that is how she knows she needs to listen, otherwise, she will get her TV and computer privileges taken away, as well as having to write out a plan for better behavior next time, and a note explaining why how she acted was not the way she _should have_ acted.

She does stomp up the staircase, though.

James knows he has to take it as it is.

She is allowed to be upset about not going outside – what energetic, wilderness loving 8-year-old _wouldn't_ be upset about that? – but she also needs to realize that James and Liz are not keeping the kids inside as some kind of punishment.

The Weatherman literally categorized the wind today as "dangerous, and a threat to property and persons". The winds have already gotten up to 20 mph, with gusts nearly double that, and it is supposed to get _worse_, so…

Yeah, Emilia can be pissed about not being able to go outside, but she still needs to realize her behavior is not appropriate.

* * *

_**2 days later – December 23**__**rd**__**, 1978  
2 day left**_

* * *

**_*Prentiss Residence*_**

Now…

Two days later.

James and Elizabeth have a secret…

No, they're not pregnant again, come on!

Michael has given them wonderful news.

Jennifer is officially _over_ 5 pounds – 5.41 pounds to be exact – and she is almost 17 inches long, just mere centimeters from it.

She is coming home soon.

Weather permitting, she may even be home within a few days.

Weather _not_ permitting, and she will be home sometime next week.

Emilia has no idea.

James and Elizabeth speak with Michael each afternoon/night. He updates them on what is going on.

He wants it to be a surprise.

He wants her to be so surprised, but happy, at the same time. She deserves it. She is like a daughter to him; her happiness is important to him.

Emilia's parents agree.

They want her to be surprised, but happy, as well.

* * *

_**Quote of the Day:  
"Nothing is impossible. The word itself says, "I'm possible!"  
2 days later – Christmas, 1978  
Home for the Holidays**_

* * *

**_*Prentiss Residence – around noon – Elizabeth's point of view*_**

"James!" I shout to my husband.

Today is Christmas. Since we have five babies only months out of the NICU, James and I are going to spend it with Michael, his wife, Sandra, and their kids, to keep from being lonely, as well as protecting the babies.

Then, later this week, we will slowly begin taking in our family members, introducing them a little at a time to the little ones.

Right now, however, we need to keep the amount of people interacting with the babies – with Claire and Grace, or Jules, Luke, and Jennifer, – to a minimum. Their immune systems are very weak, and with it being Winter, there are more sicknesses out there than usual.

We did not want to risk it. Michael did not want to risk it with Juliet and Lucas, but James and I are worried about Claire and Gracie, as well.

Even though they were just born 3 weeks early, – as opposed to nine weeks (Jules and Luke), or eight weeks (Jenny), – their own immune systems cannot protect them from something like the common cold, stomach bug, etc.

Now back to the topic at hand…

Right now?

Right now, I just hung up the phone from speaking with Michael.

He has some _wonderful_ news.

"James!"

I shout it again, sounding a little crazy, but can you blame me?

"Jam–" I walk into the kitchen, and run directly into my husband. "–Oh, there you are."

"What is going on?" He says it with a slight laugh.

"It's time!"

His smile kind of fades out.

"What? Already?"

I feel like a little kid, a little kid on, well… on Christmas.

"He just called, said they were ready, and we could bring her over whenever."

It takes us 15 minutes to get ready. We wait for my mom, Penelope, to arrive so she can watch the others while James and I bring Emilia to the car.

She questions it, but we just tell her we have a surprise for her, and that we have to take a little drive to go and see it.

James even puts a _blindfold_ on her, so she does not see that we are pulling into the Jareau's driveway.

"Step out, Emmy," I hear James tell her while I go up and knock on the door.

"Come on, Daddy! Can't you just _tell me_?!"

It is fairly amusing to see this – our eight-year-old daughter being led up the front sidewalk, which has a light dusting of snow on it, while blindfolded. I imagine that if the Jareaus had any neighbors, this would be quite the sight to see.

"No, 'Milia," James replies to her. "I can't tell you, but lift your foot right here, – there you go, – now do it again, and again…. And one more time. Now, we are on a front porch, and I am going to knock on the door, okay? Your surprise is inside this house."

"Oh, Daddy!" She suddenly gasps. "We're at Misser Michael's house!"

I raise my eyebrows in surprise at this. She has only been here a few times, – usually the Jareau kids come to our house, – so how did she know where we are if she was blindfolded?

James pauses with his fist raised ready to knock. He looks down at our daughter, asking, "Yes, we are at Mister Michael's house. How did you know that Emmy?"

"'Cause I remembabled it, Daddy, that's how!"

"You mean you _memorized_ it?"

"Yeah, that! We went out of our driveway, turned right, drove for six minutes, then turned right again, then left, then stopped at the stop sign, then drove straight for 1 minute, and then turned left again."

"Yes, I suppose that is how the drive went."

James looks to me with a _what the fuck? How'd we not know our child could do that?_ expression, but I just shrug my shoulders.

He looks to be… fumbling with a response when Emilia speaks up again.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go in now? It's cold out here."

"Oh, right. Yes, we sure can." James knocks on the door then, and Michael answers with an amused look on his face.

"I was wondering what we three were doing. Come on in! It sure is cold out there." He takes our jackets and scarves, hanging them. "Well, my mom is in the kitchen, would you like me to ask her to put on a pot of fresh coffee, or whip up some hot cocoa?"

I ask for some coffee while James and Emilia say they would like some hot cocoa, well, actually, Emilia says "warm milk with chocolate". She sometimes has a hard time remembering a certain word or how to phrase a sentence.

I believe it is because English is not actually her first language. When she was born, we spoke Arabic. Her first word, however, was in Spanish, while the last four years, she spoke both French and a teensy bit of Italian. She only used English when speaking with relatives living here in the United States.

Finally, after saying that, Emilia asks to take her blindfold off, and James says _yes_.

It takes her a moment to adjust to the light, but as soon as she sees _it_, she lights up.

Michael's father, I am assuming, is sitting on the couch, holding a tiny little baby, who is bundled up in a purple, butterfly-print blanket.

"Oh, my gosh!" Emilia squeals, nearly tripping over her own feet in her hurry to the couch.

"Jenny! _Mamí_, look! She's came home!" I chuckle at my daughter's enthusiastic reaction. "Can I hold her, _por favor_?" Michael comes into the room then with our drinks, and he, too, smiles at Emilia's happiness. Setting the tray of drinks down, he says,

"First, before you hold her, I would like to introduce, Liz, you and James, to my mother and father. This is Kenneth Jareau, and my mom, Karen Jareau. Mom, Dad, these are Emilia's parents, James and Elizabeth Prentiss. Their daughters, Claire and Grace, were in the NICU, and then the Baby Nursery with Jennifer, Jules, and Luke."

The man – Kenneth – nods in our direction, while Karen goes to shake both of our hands. Michael bends down beside Emilia, saying, "'Millie, these are my parents, Kenneth and Karen, but you can call them Mister Ken and Miss Karen, or even Mister and Miss K, whichever is easier for you, okay?"

It may seem like a small thing, but Michael accommodating her like that, knowing that she has trouble with certain pronunciations and so on, it is nice to see that happen. It feels good to know that James and I do not have to worry about him becoming upset with her over not being able to enunciate certain words or phrases.

Emilia, though, nods, because sometimes, she is shy around strangers. She will usually speak to James or myself, in a language she does know, instead of speaking directly to that person.

"Okay, Misser Michael." She whispers. "Now, can I hold Jenny, pease?!"

"Yes, you may, but after you change into your clean clothes, alright? So that Jenny gets as little germs as possible."

James had sent an outfit of Emilia's over earlier. And Michael's mom, Karen, steam pressed it.

He goes to get it, and I help her change in the downstairs bathroom. It is a red dress with dark green trim around the edges, black tights, and little black dress shoes. I pull her hair into pigtails, tying them off with green ribbons.

"Now, you may wash your hands, 'Milia. Then you can go and hold Jennifer!"

"Okay, _Mamí_!"

She eagerly does so, and I have to catch her when she reaches for the doorknob. As soon as I have the door opened, however, she shoots out of the room, down the hall, and straight for the couch.

I just follow behind, chuckling softly at her excitement.

"I'm all clean, Misser Michael! Can I hold her _now_, _por favor_?!"

And then…

The moment my little girl has waited for since meeting Jennifer Jareau in that NICU five months ago…

"Sit here, 'Millie. And we will place a pillow here, and here. Now, hold your arms like this, and… here we go."

I look around.

Michael's dad has the video camera and James is taking photos with our… polaroid camera? When did he get that?

Never mind…

I have far more important things to pay attention.

My daughter, my sweet, sweet little girl, absolutely _lights up_, as soon as Jennifer is placed in her arms. Her whole _entire body_… softens.

"Hi, Jenny," She breathes out. "I am… Emilia. And we are… gonna be… best fwiends, forever and ever."

* * *

**I figured that was a pretty good Christmas present, and Jennifer was going to have to come home at some point. She is big enough, and has no sicknesses, so everything else (tube feeding, medicines, etc.) could be done at home.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**Next up: Jenny's first night home  
Then: a short chapter for the end of December  
After that: Babies' First New Years!  
**


	22. The First Night Home (12-25-1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not Criminal Minds or its characters, including Elizabeth Prentiss, or Sandy and Roslyn Jareau. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's extended family, siblings, doctors, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

* * *

**Hey, everyone! Thank you to those who reviewed on the last chapter. I will come back to answer them later but right now, here is the next chapter. I have an important question at the bottom, so please make sure you read the entire end author's note! :) **

* * *

**Baby Stats:**

**Juliet: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.9 lbs. 18 inches long.  
Lucas: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.8 lbs. 17.5 inches long.  
Jennifer: 24 weeks old (5 months) – adjusted age 16 weeks (3 months). 5.4 lbs. 16.8 inches long.**

**Notes: So this is JJ's first night home. It is Christmas night going into December twenty-sixth. You will get to see more of Michael/Sandy interacting - with each other and the babies.**

**Enjoy! :)**

**_Quote of the Day:_**

**_"Be strong, be patient, and don't give up on tomorrow.  
Touch your miracle, kiss your miracle, and open  
your heart to new miracles every day."_**

* * *

_**December 25**__**th**__**, 1978**_

**_*Jareau Residence – Michael's point of view*_**

Today has been both an exhausting and an exhilarating day.

We managed to do the near-impossible: all three of our triplet babies are not only _alive_, but they are now _home_. Jennifer, especially, has worked so hard to get to this point. To grow big enough, become healthy enough…

I walk into my bedroom. This house is only a three-bedroom-house, so the girls share a room, Caleb, Elijah, and Gabriel get another, and then Sandy and I have our room. The Triplets are in our bedroom, until Jennifer and Juliet are big enough to move to Roz and Em's room, while Lucas will go to Caleb, Eli, and Gabe's room.

"How are Daddy's little girls and baby boy?" I coo as I look into each little bassinet. We have so many monitors and equipment and medicines and the syringes for their feeding tubes laying around that this looks more like a hospital room than a mom and dad's bedroom.

I check on each baby.

"Hello, my precious little Juliet? Did you have a good nap?" I gentle pick up my daughter who is also my youngest, first-born, laying her on the changing table. "Today is Christmas, your very first one! You may not be able to remember this, or understand much, but your mommy and I, and all your big brothers and sisters, are so happy to have you home today. We had so much fun today, taking pictures with you and Lucas and Jennifer."

Juliet is wearing soft pajamas that zip up gently over her feeding tube port.

"You are going to be bigger next Christmas," I continue speaking. "You will be, oh, let's see… July is one year, then… about 17 months old, but!" I hold up a finger, tapping Jules on her nose. "but since you were born so early, you will actually be about 15 months old."

As I pick Jules up, I continue, "I know that might be confusing so don't worry – Daddy will explain it a little more when you are older."

I have to lay Jules in her bassinet so I can get her medicine and formula ready. I would _never_ leave her on the changing table without being able to supervise. It is just far too dangerous. And I know, the little things, like that, is something people would scoff at – _I am only going to be turned away for one second!_ They may claim, but…

One second is sometimes too long.

One second could be all that is needed for a child to roll over and fall off, seriously injuring themselves. Even if they are too young to roll over right now.

I go through everything. Since they have been home for about 10 weeks now, Sandra and I have the routine down of feeding Jules and Luke, and giving their medicine, almost perfectly. Jennifer will be a little more difficult since today was her first day home.

In fact, there she is right now!

"Hi, honey," I greet my wife as she comes into the bedroom. "Did the kids go down alright?"

She smiles at me, making my heart beat faster. Sandra looks beautiful in her red dress, with her hair curled and pulled back.

"Yes, they were so tired from waking up early this morning that they all crashed and gave me no problem."

She goes straight it Lucas's bassinet. I notice that Jennifer's bassinet is first, and therefore, closer to the bedroom door. But I do not mention it.

Today is Christmas, and I do not want to ruin it.

"Just a moment, babe, and I will be done with Jules. Then I can help you get Lucas ready for bed, if you'd like."

Sandra just nods and picks up our youngest son. She talks to him, cooing, and being gentle.

"Hello, my Handsome Boy. Today was your first Christmas. Mommy and Daddy had so much fun. You looked absolutely dashing in your outfit."

Sandra continues speaking to our son. It really is a sight to behold.

I turn back to Juliet.

"Alright, my precious little Juliet, here is your medicine. Now, do not worry – this is not going to hurt. It is going to make you grow big and strong. Your lungs and your brain still need a little helping growing," I attach the syringe, and gently and slowly push the medicine through the _G-tube_. "This will also help protect against those big, yucky germs that may try to make you sick."

Once Juliet has all of her medicine, I feed her the formula that is specially made for preemies. She takes the bottle by mouth, and I gentle rock her to sleep while she is eating. Then, I place her back into her bassinet. Once I have all three babies finished and ready for bed, Sandra and I can put them to sleep. For now, though, I turn to my wife.

"Honey, would you like me to help you with Luke?"

I gesture to the changing table, and to where I am setting up his own medicine and syringes of formula.

"No, that is all right." Sandra stands up. "I can do everything here on the dresser. Why don't you go ahead and… and get… Jennifer, ready?"

My brow furrows at her stutter. But, I sigh, I guess I cannot be too upset about it.

At least she called our daughter by her _name_ instead of "_that thing_" or something equally… rude.

* * *

**_*Later – Michael's point of view cont.*_**

I gave Jennifer double the amount of attention I had given Jules or Luke. Sandra finished up with our baby son, and then rocked him to sleep. She, once again, did not give Jennifer much attention but, I cannot complain.

Sandra held her today. And I saw her speaking to Jennifer earlier when she was in the bassinet.

She is still not going to therapy, and I am going to remind her of my ultimatum. But not today.

Because today is Christmas.

And today we have all eight of children home, healthy, thriving, growing…

I do not want to ruin it.

Instead, I tiptoe out of our bedroom – I was checking on the babies. It makes me so nervous, to have three very tiny, very vulnerable little ones in there, – I go down the hall, and peek into each bedroom.

The boys have a bunkbed and a smaller bed, for Elijah and Caleb, and then Gabriel. They are all bundled up, and sleeping, and they all have their new stuffed animals, Elijah has his frog, Cal has a stuffed bear, and Gabriel has a cat.

They are all three sleeping with both their _old_, worn, and favorite stuffies, as well as their new ones, which are decked out in Christmas colors.

I check the girls next, Roslyn and Emma. They, too, have their new and old stuffies with them. Roz has two lions, while Emma has both her new and old stuffed dogs.

I look to a certain spot across the room. While this was first Eli, Caleb, and Gabe's room, this specific spot in the girls' old room would have been where Lexie's bed sat.

God, today is the _second_ Christmas we celebrated without her.

She would be about 4 years and 9 months right now. Turning _five_ in March. Her last year of preschool…

It does not seem that long ago. 1 year and five months.

1 year and 5 months ago, I woke up, got ready for work, left the house, and went about my day.

1 year and 5 months ago, my oldest son, Caleb, called to ask permission to take Gabriel and Alexandria to the park. Lexie informed me that Sandra had slapped Caleb. It pissed me off so much.

And 1 year and 5 months ago…

I got a call from my wife, frantic and out of breath, and completely panicking…

My daughter, Lexie, and my nephew, Kevin, had went missing at the park.

Jesus, has it really been _that long_? That long since I snuck in my daughters' and sons' rooms and kissed each of them goodbye? That long since I heard Lexie say, _I love you, Daddy!_ to me on the phone before leaving for the park?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.

I cannot dwell on those moments. I can only move forward, and remember my little girl as the sweet, beautiful, kind child she was.

* * *

**_*Around 11:30 p.m. – Michael's point of view cont.*_**

The Triplets wake up once more before Sandra and I go to bed. I feed Jennifer first, then Lucas, while she feeds Juliet. We have to feed them, slowly, through their feedings tubes, except for Jules. She is taking bottles by mouth.

I decide to ask because it is something that Dr. Jacobs has mentioned, and I need to know what Sandra thinks.

"Hey, babe," I call out as we sit on the couch, looking at the Christmas tree, and the remnants of the fun that was had earlier. "Can we–… I need to ask you something, ok?"

Sandra just… looks at me.

I sigh.

There are actually _two_ things that are very important. I pick one at random, because each one is a topic I _do not _want to have to bring.

"We need to talk about… well… about Jennifer." I watch her face for any reaction whatsoever. I see it. It is very small, just an _inkling_, but there is a flicker of emotional change, in her eyes, her body language.

I clear my throat not backing down.

"It is about her lip, honey," I continue. "We need to discuss what we are going to do about it. I–…" How do I say this without sounding insensitive?

But then…

I realize…

I should not have to _worry about_ sounding insensitive; my _wife_ should know automatically that I am not saying these things, speaking about these topics, with the intent to hurt her.

"Dr. Jacobs has told me that we can do surgery on her lip. It will be to close the gap, and then later on, there may be more surgeries that she will need, as she grows."

I get no response.

"Also, I–" _Fuck_. This is one of those _things_. One that I should not be hesitant to mention, but…

Here I am.

"I will be needing to go back to work soon. The hospital, my boss, he has already given me several months of paid leave, but I do need to go back. Now, I spoke with Dr. Johnson about this, and… well, he said that I can start back with only the absolutely necessary surgeries and consults. As the Triplets grow, and get healthier, well… sooner or later, I will need to go back to my regular schedule."

Still no fucking response. I lose my temper, snapping out,

"Answer me, damnit!"

"What do you want me to say, Michael?"

"I want you to say anything, Sandra! Tell me you are thrilled to have all three of our babies home. Tell me you are worried about them, even now. Tell me you are concerned about what Jennifer's _cleft lip_ means for her future. Tell me you are interested in knowing the '_whats_' and the '_hows_' for what we can do about that. Tell me _anything_, Sandra, _anything at all_!"

I slump in my seat as I realize that, once again, I let Sandra get to me, and I raised my voice.

I really should get a better handle on that, but…

God, I shouldn't have to be walking around on eggshells with my _wife_.

I sigh.

"Sandra, honey, I–… I have been quite lenient these past few months, after our talk in July. I… told you some of the things I had noticed – about you being restless, getting upset unusually easy, and seeming to not enjoy your past interests – and I said that I would be willing to do anything you would need to help you."

I pause here to see if there is any sort of reaction/recognition about what I am saying. What I am… well, what I am referring to.

But I get nothing.

God…

Where is the wife I once knew? Where is the woman that I promised to keep safe, to love, no matter what, and to raise our children with?

Where is the woman who would playfully blow dish soap bubbles at Emma and Caleb as they "helped" wash the dishes, or the one who would lovingly read our children a bedtime story…

I take a good look at who Sandra has become. I do not like it, not one _bit_.

I sigh again, long and deep and full of regret for what I am about to say…

"Sandra, I still would love to help you, in any way I can, with whatever is going on with you. I think you may be struggling, with this time a year, seeing as this is the second Christmas we have celebrated without Alexandria."

The slight shift of expression in her eyes is the only thing telling me she is actually listening.

"I would love to help you in any way I can, but I do need to remind you of the ultimatum I gave you. And, I am sorry, honey, if this sounds harsh, but I am doing this as what is best for our children's health, for what is best for us, as a family, and as a whole…"

I take deep breath, slow, and long, and drawn out…

And then…

"I am going to make you the next available appointment with Dr. Oliver. And I want you to know that, as much as I hate to have to say this, you _will_ be going to her. Or you may choose another therapist on your own. Either way, honey, you _will be going_, otherwise…"

God, do I really want to say this?

Do I?

I am suddenly hit with the memory of the last five months – Emma and Elijah, and sometimes Roz, were treated like saints, Sandra cooing over Lucas and Juliet, while Caleb and Gabe seemed to fall off her radar, and her all but denying Jennifer's existence, – and I decide right then and there…

"If you do not go; if you do not speak with someone about your behavior, about what is wrong, about the things that have gone wrong in the last year and 5 months, then, I cannot promise that we will be celebrating the next Holiday together. I am giving you until February to change, to change your attitude, to get help, to get a better handle on your anger…"

"Two months to get a set of healthy habits for tending to your anger and whatever else is going on, or… Or, I am sorry," I force the words out. God, this is not how I wanted today – how I wanted _Christmas_ – to go. "I–… I will start to draw up the papers for a separation."

At this, I stand, take my mug to the kitchen, turn off the lights and lock the doors, and then I make my way upstairs for the night.

* * *

**_*Later*_**

It is about 2 in the morning when the alarm for the babies wake us up. They need a diaper change and to be fed, and their next dose of medicine is due. We have to have alarm because, unlike full-term babies, preemies sleep through their hunger, and they also do not know when their medicine should be administered.

Because of that, Dr. Jacobs gave us a special alarm that goes off throughout the night, telling us when to feed/medicate them.

I am so exhausted that I don't even try and argue with her – try and force her – about paying Jennifer any attention. I take care of Lucas and Jennifer, while Sandra picks Juliet up. She changes her diaper, feeds her a bottle, gives her, her next dose of medicine, and then rocks her to sleep.

Luke and Jenny take longer than those few minutes. It is a mess and slightly difficult, but I am able to get Lucas fed, changed, and give him his medicine. Jenny, though,…

I take longer on purpose with her. Looking at the clock, I see it reads _2:17 a.m._

"Congratulations, babygirl," I whisper to my official youngest daughter. "You made it past midnight, today is a new day and, in just a few more hours, and it will be morning! Here you go, _Peanut_. This medicine will help you, and this is your special formula. That's a good girl, so calm and patient…"

I talk to her as I work, though I know she is not fully awake. Preemies are so different, in many ways. They sleep for many more hours than full-termers, as well as being awake for only a short of amount of time for feeding, etc., and when they are awake, it is more a sleepy/drowsiness than fully awake.

But the good thing is, with a feeding tube, unless the babies wake up for a diaper change, we can simply feed and administer medicine without waking them.

Unfortunately, this is only for Luke and Jenny. Since Jules takes a bottle by mouth, we have to wake her. The poor girl probably hates it, but sooner or later, they will all three be big enough that we can go longer in between feeds.

However, the bad thing about _that_?

Preemie babies do not start sleeping through the night as their full-term equivalents.

While Caleb and Emma started sleeping through the night at 4 and 5 months respectively, Eli did at 4 ½ months, Gabe at 5 months, and Roslyn, our little early princess, started sleeping through the night at just 3 months old.

That was quite alarming, but we quickly adjusted to it.

And then there is – _was_ – Lexie. She was sleeping through the night just shy of 5 months old.

But preemies?

Well, preemies may be as _early_ as _six_ months or as _late_ as _eight_ months old before they are sleeping from bedtime through wake up time the next morning.

But, as I tend to Jennifer, and I look at baby's bluish-grey eyes that are extremely sleepy looking, I think to myself…

It will be _so_ worth it.

Cause this?

This right here means that our baby is _home_.

I have no doubt about Emilia helping out with Jenny, or Luke and Jules. Roz, Caleb, and Eli are smitten with her, while Emma adores Luke, and Gabriel loves Juliet.

I would spend a million years getting up every two hours because it means my babies are healthy and home.

"_I see skies of blue, and clouds of white_," I whisper as I button Jennifer's onesie back up. "_The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night._"

I lay her gently in her bassinet.

"_And I think to myself, what… a wonderful… world!_"

* * *

**This was Jen's first night home so not a lot I could do, but I did give an update of Sandy and Michael's relationship. ****Things are not looking too good, but he did remind her of his earlier warning.**

**Sandra ****_does_**** have PPD. Michael is going to try to get her to talk to someone, which will help her work out her frustrations/anger in a healthy way, and talk about how much she is suffering since Lexie was kidnapped. However, this will ****_only_**** work if she willingly participates in the therapy visits.**

**Also, I am going to be a "missing scenes" story, like I did with the first BFF. It will have missing scenes of between chapters, and extended scenes in certain chapters. This is going to be called _Snapshots: Chronicles & Treasures_. In that, will be more scenes of the months we've skipped over, in August–July, and the Triplets' first Christmas. Let me know if you want to request moment/scene for chapters 1 thru 20.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**

**Next up: One more chapter in December.****  
Then: A chapter dictating several weeks in January  
After that: follow up to January chapter  
**

**Important Question! The last several chapters have had bigger time jumps. Would you guys like this to continue, or are you still happy with the pace from the last time I asked? Again, this is important because I am needing to know how to pace future chapters. So, fast pacing or back to day-to-day. I really enjoying doing it slowly but I don't want this to become too boring for all for you.**


	23. The Worry (December 27th, 1978)

**Disclaimers: I do not Criminal Minds or its characters, including Elizabeth Prentiss, or Sandy and Roslyn Jareau. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's extended family, siblings, doctors, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

**Notes: Hey, everyone! It's been a while, and I am sorry about that. The last few months have been hard for various reasons, including what happened last month (Glee related), and just in general the world going to shit. But, I do have the next several chapters finished, and I have even more outlined, and hopefully, this will make it back on the updating list!**

**Important: Alden is Elizabeth's father, the kids maternal grandfather. Jason is James's 12-year-old little brother, the kids' "uncle".**

**Juliet: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.9 lbs. 18 inches long.  
Lucas: 26 weeks (5 months) – adjusted age 17 weeks (3 months). 6.8 lbs. 17.5 inches long.  
Jennifer: 24 weeks old (5 months) – adjusted age 16 weeks (3 months). 5.4 lbs. 16.8 inches long.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**_December 27th, 1978_**

* * *

**_*Prentiss Residence*_**

Michael sighs as he is let inside the house.

Christmas has come and gone. Jenny has been home, officially, for 48 hours.

Sandra has spoken to, held, or acknowledged the fact that Jennifer _exists_ a total of 6 hours, 37 minutes, and, as of 5 minutes ago, before Michael drove here, 19 seconds during those 48 hours.

Michael is absolutely _exhausted_. By all of it.

The Triplets are on a 1 hour, 30 minute cycle of being fed, while their medicine administered on a cycle that is little longer than that.

The older kids are needing more attention, as well.

Emma is struggling, Caleb's grades have dropped, Roslyn is having nightmares again.

Gabriel and Elijah, the two who are least likely to get in trouble, are now being grounded nearly every week. Michael dreads when they actually go back to school in January.

And when the older kids are not fighting or arguing with each other, they are causing chaos and disrupting the little ones' naptime, or demanding the attention that they desperately need, but are not getting.

Sandra is no help at all.

He gets it; she is hurting, she is struggling with… _something_… but she refuses to talk to him. And if she _won't talk_ then he cannot _help her_.

Emma is starting arguments with the younger two. She is stressed, has been ever since Juliet and Lucas came home two months ago.

Caleb is having meltdowns again. He held out for June and July. And Michael was expecting everything to come crashing down, but when it did not happen in August, he thought, maybe, just maybe, it would not happen.

But then September happened.

Twice in one week, and then a break; he held it together for another two weeks before having three more in three days.

Then October happened. The babies were growing, things were being prepared at home. The kids were staying with friends, grandparents, their aunt and uncle.

Caleb's routine was thrown off. Emma was aggravating him, school was overwhelming. Everything was _different_,_ changing_; routines were being screwed with, plans were being rescheduled or canceled last minute.

In the months since Juliet and Lucas arrived home, –– from October until now –– Caleb has had nine consecutive meltdowns, 5 reports from school, and numerous other incidents.

Elijah is barely hanging on. Roslyn is quieter than usual. Gabriel is hanging by a thread, himself, and is getting in trouble. Hitting the other kids, smarting off to grownups. He has more trouble focusing and listening in school.

Roslyn and Emma are always fighting, arguing over something –– _anything_ –– nearly every moment of the day. Roslyn refuses to do her homework, and cannot seem to retain anything she learned at school. Emma is struggling, _big time_. She is not completing her nightly assignment of reading, and is failing at math that she had previously been able to do.

Michael tries his best to be home in time to help everyone with their homework; to check it over. Before now, he would sit Emma down and go step-by-step with her math. She is learning long division, which is extremely hard for her, and triple-digit multiplication.

Michael hated it. Emma despised it. And now that their daily routines, schedules, and life, in general, had been screwed up?

Well, the 12-year-old was ready to throw in the towel just a week after school started.

Elijah tries his best to focus at school, but he is falling behind because he cannot sleep at night, plagued by nightmares that something will happen to Jules, Luke, or Jenny. That Jennifer will decline again and this time, she will not magically become better. That this time, she will actually _die_.

That is the worry behind every nightmare and every incomplete school assignment. It is the fear that drives every smart mouth comment, every angry outburst, every fight at school, and every night that he lays awake staring at the ceiling.

His writing is suffering majorly. Teachers are not being lenient enough, and are failing him due to his inability to write or complete assignments. Michael is furious, but is unable to do anything due to the school's lack of help in scheduling a good date for a meeting.

Life was turned upside down when Lucas and Juliet came home in October, and again two days ago when Jennifer arrived home. And it does not seem it will get better any time soon.

So, yeah, Michael is exhausted.

He hasn't slept. He has not had a decent meal in _months_. Christmas Eve and Day was the first _real_ homecooked, full-course meal he has had since Juliet and Lucas were born in June.

For six months, he survived on frozen pizza, sandwiches, take-out orders, hell, sometimes all he had during a 24-hour period was a bottle of soda, and three bags of chips.

He did not even have a proper birthday back in November. Emma remembered as did his mom and dad. His sisters, Martha, Cynthia, and Kelley-Elizabeth, called to wish a _happy birthday_. But the other kids had to be reminded, and there were no presents, cake, or special birthday dinner.

Now, though, as he walks into the Prentiss household, and their Nanny, Lynn Stevens, takes the Triplets up to the Nursery, where a pac-'n-play has been sanitized and is available for their nap, he finally feels like he can _relax_.

There are no expectations here.

No need to be the perfect husband and the attentive, dream dad.

The older kids are at their friends' houses. Something that is typical during the Holidays. And Michael came over here because he needs to _not_ be around Sandra right now. He needs to be able to relax, and know that the Triplets, Jennifer, especially, are taken care of.

"Hello, Michael," Liz greets as he enters the kitchen. "Would like a cup of coffee?"

"Maybe you can hook me up to an IV drip." He jokes back as he heads straight to the fridge for some creamer. He knows the layout of this house probably better than his own, and is no longer wary about "making himself at home".

"Still not getting any sleep, huh?" Elizabeth watches him getting a mug, pouring the coffee, adding creamer, reaching for the sugar… "You know, you are more than welcome to let us watch Triplets for a few days. Just so you can get a full 8 hours of sleep, or longer, if you need it. James and I understand how hard it is at night for first several weeks or months."

She remembers when they brought Jake home, just short of 11 years ago. Even though he was only born 3 weeks early, a "late term" preemie, he was still abnormally small, and required a six-week stay in the NICU. He was labeled _failure to thrive_ at six months, but is doing much better now.

Michael sighs as he turns to face Elizabeth. He wants to say _yes_; he _needs_ to say _yes_. Taking care of eight children, three of which literally require triple the normal amount of care and attention, and not getting more than a four-hour timespan of sleep each night is starting to take a toll on him.

He figures it couldn't hurt. They still have several days of Christmas break, and he can always take the Triplets home within two or three, or even four, days. That way he is able to spend time with them before getting things ready to start working again at the hospital in January.

Michael agrees and, an hour later, Elizabeth accompanies him to his house to pack up the rest of the equipment, all the medicine, their formula, the diapers that were specially designed for preemies, numerous outfits, as well as the pacifiers, and their bassinets.

It looks like, to anyone who might see it, that he is going to be leaving Lucas, Juliet, and Jennifer for more than just four days. But, that is what happens when the babies are born so early, and actually do require all of these things daily.

* * *

**_*Later*_**

He still has not heard from Sandra. She went to visit her parents after he left the house, but will not return his calls.

He checked in with his own mom and dad, Karen and Kenneth Jareau, and they are staying at their house that is here in Pittsburgh. They will stay the rest of Christmas break but will have to leave next week, as Martha and Kelley-Elizabeth have to go back to school.

He keeps dialing Sandra, but after the fourth time in as many hours, Michael finally gets frustrated enough to give up, at least for now. He even takes advantage of the nap that Elizabeth offers him, and makes his way to one of the guest bedrooms.

This house is huge, and he is a little jealous of it. It is three stories if you count the basement. Each bedroom had its own bathroom, and there are four guest bedrooms, along with a bathroom for each of them, which makes for about 9 fully furnished bedrooms with pullout couches downstairs and in the basement.

He was informed, by Emilia, that she has her own room instead of sharing with Amaya, because Kai and Maya wanted to share a room. They leaves Jacob and Tristan sharing a room, and Claire and Gracie sharing a Nursery.

All the bedrooms are themed, including the guest bedrooms. Two "girly" ones of pink and black/Paris, and the second being just grey, pink, and brown. For the other two –– the "boy" themed –– one is light green, blue, and white, a "Nautical" theme, with blue and white, while the second is "normal", just as plain ole as can be for the colors, themes, etc.

Michael picks the "Nautical" one for his nap.

It seems like it lasts only an hour but by the time he awakens, nearly four hours have passed. It seems his internal clock is still set to wake up for the babies, and for a moment, he panics as he does not immediately recognize where he is at.

Taking a several minutes to get ahold of his bearings, Michael calms down as he remembers what today is and where he is currently. Once he understands, he sits up, running a hand over his face. The clock reads _3:14 p.m._ but the room is incredibly dark thanks to the blackout curtains on the window.

He ventures downstairs, following the sound of music and laughter to the kitchen. As he comes into view of the room, he leans against the kitchen doorway, watching as Elizabeth and James, along with an unknown man and woman, –– though, by the looks of it, they are related to Elizabeth, –– dance around the room with the kids.

It seems the older kids had shown up at some point, as there is now nearly triple the amount of children under the age of 18.

He relaxes as he watches…

Penelope (Elizabeth's mother) is off to the side, feeding Juliet a bottle while her husband, Alden, is with Jennifer as he either feeds her formula or her medicine. Michael moves closer, noticing that Alden is also speaking to her, singing a song he does not recognize as it is in a different language.

_Bébé à moi, ne pleure pas,  
Bébé à moi, séchez vos yeux.  
Reposez votre tête près de mon cœur,  
Ne jamais se séparer,  
Le bébé de la mine._

_Petit, quand tu joues,  
Ne vous dérangez pas ce qu'ils disent.  
Laissez ces yeux briller et briller,  
Jamais une larme,  
Le bébé de la mine._

_De la tête à vos orteils (Baby mine),  
Tu es si gentil, Dieu sait (Baby mine).  
Tu es si précieux pour moi,  
Mignon comme peut l'être,  
Le bébé de la mine._

_Mine de bébé,  
Mine de bébé._

He must make a noise or something, or maybe it is because Alden raised 12 kids, but suddenly, the older man is looking at him.

"Hello, Michael. Sleep well, I hope?"

"Yes, I did." And it is the truth; the Prentisses certainly do not skimp out on making sure their guests are comfortable while staying here. "Thank you. How are they?"

At this, Alden lights up, almost as if he is about to speak about his own children and/or grandchildren.

"Jennifer is doing wonderful. She had a wet diaper _and_ a poopy diaper, and has taken her medicine and formula like a champ. Juliet is wonderful, as well. She sucked that bottle dry, just like the big girl she is."

It makes Michael so happy to hear Alden speak with a… _proudness_… as if the babies were actually _his_ blood-family. Of course, Michael realizes, he feels the same about the Prentiss kids. He shares their triumphs, their fails, and their in-betweens.

However, as Michael is feeling this, he notices that Alden suddenly looks less… enthusiastic.

Right as he goes to ask, Alden speaks up, "I do not want to worry you, Son. But I did notice something… _strange_…" Alden makes a motion with his hand, telling Michael to hang on just a moment. He finishes up with Jennifer and hands her off to Elizabeth.

It is not until Alden starts leading Michael to the side of the room, that the new-but-seasoned father begins to _really_ worry.

"You see, I noticed that Jennifer and Juliet, they could open their eyes, and it seemed they were focusing on what they were hearing, with their eyes, that is. Emilia, she came over and was speaking to Jenny. I could tell that your baby girl was enthralled by her. She opened her beautiful blue eyes, and turned towards Emmy…"

It strikes him at that moment: Alden is speaking of Juliet and Jennifer, his daughters, but has not mentioned, Lucas.

Why does that thought fill him with dread?

Alden must sense it because he is speaking once more, explaining,

"What I noticed was Lucas, your son, he would turn towards a sound, however, it seems like he was not able to focus his eyes on the _object_ of the sound. My wife, Penelope, and I, we tried several different things: rattles, siblings speaking, and so on. But it did not seem as if he could focus his eyes."

Now–" He holds up a hand. "I do not want you to get too worried. Lucas may be able to do such a thing, –– focusing his eyes on one particular item or person, –– and it may just be taking him a bit longer. He is using an adjusted age, after all. I just wanted you to know, because James had told me you were taking the Triplets to their checkup in a couple of weeks."

It does worry him. He cannot help it. It is his first time –– his family's first time –– having not one, but three babies born as early as Jennifer, Juliet, and Lucas were. He is so happy, so _proud_, that Jennifer is able to turn towards Emilia. He is proud of Juliet, also. It means they are developing in a semi-normal way.

Michael is also excited. So, _so_ excited. He wants to try it for himself. He wants to speak to them and get that fuzzy feeling in his belly when his _child_ turns to look at him after hearing his voice. That moment when you can say _yes! She reached a milestone!_ That moment when they categorize him as _daddy and his voice_.

He looks across the room. Emilia is sitting in the living room and he can see her from his placement with Alden. She is holding Jennifer, and by the looks of it, Jenny is looking _at_ her. Emilia's smile is beautiful. She looks as if she could not _be_ happier.

But…

That all comes crashing down when he sees Caleb pacing back and forth, holding Lucas, speaking to him, and simply… bonding with his baby brother.

Michael hopes –– oh, how he _hopes_ –– that Alden is right: Lucas was born 9 weeks early and may just need extra time to reach this particular milestone.

God, he _really_ hopes.

Because the alternative?

The opposite of _needing more time_?

Retinopathy of prematurity, or ROP.

A big, scary diagnosis that means an _abnormal growth of blood vessels_.

It _could_ mean vision loss.

_Vision loss_.

Though that does not always happen.

It can be detected early, however, if a child gets his or her eye exams at the right time. And most of the cases go away without treatment.

But it is still scary.

It is terrifying because, _sometimes_?

Sometimes it does not go away.

Sometimes treatment does not work.

Sometimes, the surgery to laser away the extra blood vessels fails, and this leads to scar tissue and glasses and vision problems, and all of this is terrifying to parents, because, _why wouldn't it be_?

A pit forms in the bottom of Michael's stomach.

He has heard the outcome of the surgeries. He has seen parents absolutely _elated_ because the surgery went well, and their baby would be able to see.

Then, there was that one case, about two years ago. He overheard a doctor giving a young couple, probably no older than 21 or 22, some very bad news. Earlier that week, their infant baby girl had the surgery, her _abnormal growth of blood vessels_ were supposed to be lasered away, and all was supposed to be well.

Only, it did not happen that way. When her parents brought her in that day for a checkup, well…

Let's just say _congratulations, the surgery was a success!_ was _not_ the kind of news those parents were given.

The doctor gave them the news that the surgery had failed, and their little girl would grow up…

_Blind_.

That baby girl would be about 4, turning 5 in March, in fact. And he knows this because, Kiera, that was her name, was born on March 17th, 1974.

Anyway…

Michael looks to Alden. He tries to rein in his emotions but fails, and Alden just looks so…

Devastated.

But he is older, and he has more authority, and with as much calmness as he possibly can muster, Alden says, "I do not want you to worry. I know where your head is right now, but don't let it linger. This could be nothing, Michael, you hear? It could be _nothing_."

And then, because he is _older_, and because he not want to give Michael false hope by swearing Lucas will be fine, he adds,

"And even if it _is_ something, we will be here for you. All of us. Okay? You are not in this alone."

* * *

**Ok, so basically what I am saying is, Lucas could be blind or have very low vision. Retinopathy of Prematurity (ROP) is something that occurs with premature babies, and the earlier the baby is born, the greater chance this will occur.**

**I wanted to shake things up. There will be _lingering effects_ of being born 9 weeks early (for Luke & Jules) and 8 weeks early (for JJ). This will include developmental delays, learning disabilities, and maybe some… _other_… types of complications.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :) If you have any questions, just put it in your review, and I will answer through PM. **


	24. The January Chapter (Jan 1–8, 1979)

**Disclaimers: I do not Criminal Minds or its characters, including Elizabeth Prentiss, or Sandy and Roslyn Jareau. I do own all OCs, including JJ and Emily's extended family, siblings, doctors, etc.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T for a section of the implication of _inappropriate_ touching. It will be marked.**

**Notes: Thank you to those who read the last chapter chapter. And welcome to my new followers and favoriters! This chapter will be covering the month of January. It's ****just a bunch of fluff. **

_Words in italic_** are the French sentences translated to English.**

**Juliet: 27 weeks (6 months) – adjusted age 18 weeks (4 months). 6.9 lbs. 18 inches long.  
Lucas: 27 weeks (6 months) – adjusted age 18 weeks (4 months). 6.8 lbs. 17.5 inches long.  
Jennifer: 26 weeks old (5 months) – adjusted age 18 weeks (3 months). 5.4 lbs. 16.8 inches long.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**_December 31st, 1978 – New Year's Eve_**

* * *

**_*Prentiss Residence*_**

"Bubba Jake!" Emilia yells as she skips to her older brothers' room. She knocks on the door, as she has been taught, and waits for Jacob to open it.

The older boy shares this bedroom with _his_ older brother, 12-year-old Tristan. And right now, the older Jareau kids — Emma and Elijah, — are in here, as well.

"Hey, 'Milia," Jacob smiles at his little sister. She looks so pretty in her dress – a dark green velvety-type, with matching ribbons tying off her braids, and a pair of black tights. "What did you need?"

"C'est l'aumône de ton anniversaire!" _It's almost your birthday!_

He smiles as she speaks one of the languages she is most comfortable with – French.

"Yes, it is. It is also almost Eli's birthday."

"Oui! Et Claire, et Gracie, et Jenny, et Jules, et le tout premier Joyeux Nouvel An de Luke!" _Yeah! And Claire, and Gracie, and Jenny, and Jules, and Luke's very first Happy New Year's!_

Jacob just chuckles. Yes, he knew that, as Emilia, plus his little sister and little brother, Amaya and Kai, and even Elijah's little sister and little brother, Roz and Gabe, have been saying it all day.

"Yes, it is."

Emilia bounces up and down a little more. She is just so _energized_, even though she has been awake since nine a.m. and did not take a nap all day.

"_D'accord. Maman dit qu'il est presque temps pour les feux d'artifice_!" _Ok. Mommy says it's almost time for fireworks!_

Jacob lets her know he is going to watch the clock, and he will be downstairs with the older kids in exactly 10 minutes. He says it like that — giving a specific time frame — because he knows that Emilia loves watching the clock, counting down the minutes until a certain event.

"Je t'aime!" She shouts as she literally bounces down the hallway. _Love you!_

Jacob is left chuckling, and, as he closes the bedroom door, Tristan asks,

"Elle est vraiment excitée, hein?" _She is really excited, huh?_

Jake just snorts at this, not answering.

That is, until Emma speaks up.

"What was she saying?"

And really?

It seems like an honest and innocent question.

After all, not many people who live here are fluent in French and, therefore, would not know what his little sister had just said.

But still…

Even at only eleven years old, Jacob can hear the slight undertone of… annoyance?… in his new friend's voice.

Even so, he simply answers with, "Oh, that? Emmy was just excited to tell me it is almost my birthday. And yours, Eli. And that tomorrow is our sisters', Claire and Gracie, and your sisters' and brother's first New Years."

"Yeah!" Tristan pipes up. "Emmy does that a lot. If we are not in school the day before our birthdays, then she spends all day reminding us that _tomorrow is your birthday!_ Or _tomorrow is my birthday!_"

Elijah grins. Roz is like that, too. He thinks that Emilia and Roslyn will probably be especially close as they grow up.

"She really is adorable," He comments. "And she is eight? Make sure you take time to enjoy it." He sounds like a wise older man, instead of a little boy turning 11 years old in less than 12 hours. "She is going to grow up fast and, before you know it, she will be a teenager, or even a preteen, and the smallest things will upset her."

The middle Jareau boy motions discretely to his left, where Emma is currently sitting.

"I know you're talking about me," Emma snarks, making Elijah roll his eyes.

"See what I mean?"

"Hush, Eli! Maybe it's 'cause they _are_ annoying!"

Elijah just sighs. He understands that his sister sometimes has trouble with her expressive language — she has a difficult time reading body language and knowing when to continue speaking, or when to _stop_ speaking, — and he knows all of this, but…

But it still sort of embarrasses him, when Emma speaks without really thinking, and then does not notice that people are uncomfortable, and _keeps_ speaking anyway.

Like now…

"Why can't you tell her to leave you alone if she bothers you? Or tell your parents–"

"Em…" Elijah sighs out, recognizing that this is going to be one of _those_ moments.

Tristian and Jake were not giving off the impression that Emilia was annoying the. However, since Emma has both _receptive_ and _expressive language_ difficulties, it means she is not picking up on that little detail by looking at their body language or facial expressions.

"You know, when Roslyn and Gabriel are annoying me, I just tell my mom, and she gets on to them."

"Emma!"

She needs to stop speaking now, Elijah knows, because _he_ can see the looks Tristan and Jake are exchanging…

"Emilia would probably be in big trouble if she didn't listen to you telling her to leave you alone! And–"

"Emma-Jo Faith!"

Elijah yells it, successfully shutting up his big sister.

"Emma, do you remember when Daddy tells you to _SET_?"

Emma just looks at him blankly. He continues anyway.

"Daddy says to _Stop_ talking, _Evaluate_ the situation, and _Think_ about what you should say next, or if you should stop speaking. Remember?"

And boy, does this embarrass the 12-year-old. How dare Elijah say that in front of these strangers?! Her difficulties are _her_ business only, not anyone else's!

And this is why, instead of relenting, Emma just does the usual thing when she is embarrassed, or honestly does not know how to react…

She scoffs, rolls her eyes, and stands up.

"Well, if you wanna be around little babies, I'm not gonna be a part of it."

And with that, she storms out of the room.

It effectively confuses the _hell_ out of Tristan and Jacob.

What just happened?

Elijah sighs.

"I'm sorry, guys. She is usually a lot nicer than that, I promise! I just–… Well, our dad says she has something called _expressive_ and _receptive language_ issues. Sometimes, she has trouble beginning a conversation, like picking a topic that is going to be interesting to the other person. And then she also has trouble with knowing when to be quiet, like understanding that you and Jake do not find your sister annoying, or that you did not agreed with her."

He tries to explain the best he can but really, he is only 10 years old, and Michael would definitely be able to clarify it better.

Still, Tristan nods.

"Yeah, our _Mamí_ says that Amaya and Jake has a little bit of trouble with that, and so does our little brother, Kai. We don't think Emmy has it, and we don't know if Gracie and Claire will."

He shifts in his seat on his beanbag, happy to know that there is someone who _actually_ understands and, because of that, feeling comfortable enough to say,

"I used to have trouble with the _receptive_ part, but _mamí_ and _papí_ practiced with me a lot. Maybe Emma just needs some more practice learning. You know, our paretns would probably be happy to help!"

Elijah just nods in agreement. He relaxes a bit, appreciating that the two boys understand enough not to get mad or judge Emma to be a hateful child.

Michael would appreciate the help, he knows, but…

Emma is the one who will probably not be so willing or accepting.

_**:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/**_

**_*Later – 5 minutes until midnight*_**

The babies are awake. All five of them.

They are decked out in matching onesies, which are even colored coded – green for Lucas, blue and purple for Jennifer, pink for Juliet, red and white for Claire, and pink and brown for Gracie.

Currently, they are all five propped up against some pillows on the couch.

"_Mamí_!" Emilia starts out with Spanish before switching to French. Elizabeth does not mind. She wants her daughter to be comfortable speaking at home, and making her use the English language would definitely _not_ be comfortable to her.

"Puis-je prendre une photo, s'il vous plait?" _Can I take a picture, please?_

Chuckling, Elizabeth answers with, "Oui. Come over here… right here…"

Elizabeth lines her up, back far enough that she can get all five babies in the photo, stepping back, as she knows that she can take the picture herself.

All the kids get in the pictures, – big kids, little kids, each one gets a photo with their baby sibling, etc. The kids are just all amped up, so the grownups are trying to keep them occupied.

It is less than five minutes until the ball drops, which they are watching on TV.

Michael just cannot believe it. Less than 5 minutes and it will be 1979. So many things happened in 1978, and he is equal parts happy and sad to see it go.

Jennifer is _alive_. She is healthy and growing and she is _home_.

"Misser Michael?" Emilia says as she comes over to the couch he is sitting on.

"Yes, 'Millie?"

She climbs up on to the couch, settling at his side.

"Jenny est à la maison. Aujourd'hui, c'est la Saint-Sylvestre... Elle n'est pas morte, Mander Michael." _Jenny is home. Today is New Year's Eve… She didn't die, Misser Michael._ He wraps an arm around her. "Elle n'est pas morte." _She didn't die._

The awe in her voice is something he, most definitely, can understand.

Yeah, his daughter is home. She is alive. She _didn't_ die. Tomorrow is the first day of a new year, and he hopes Jennifer gets to celebrate many more new years.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

**_*1 minute until New Year's*_**

"Mommy, it's almost time!" Amaya Prentiss shouts.

Elizabeth chuckles at her daughter's enthusiasm. Even though the six-year-old did not take a nap today, she is still wide awake.

"It is almost time. Let's all gather in the living room."

Right as she says this, James calls out that the clock on TV has reached 20 seconds.

Everyone rushes to the living room right as the clock gets to 13 seconds…

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

* * *

**_*January 1st, 1979*_**

"Happy New Year!" – "Happy Birthday, Eli and Jacob!"

The two are yelled out simultaneously. Everyone cheers and hugs and the grownups share their first kiss of the New Year.

"Gosh, I can't believe you are both 11 years old already!" Michael gasps out. Jacob has quickly become like a son to him. He has shared in the little boy's triumphs the past several months such as, getting straight A's for the very first time, or getting his first ever _100%_ on a spelling tell.

Jake struggles with writing and spelling, so he has always received nothing above a _60_ or a _70_, except for that one time that the words were super easy and were similar in spelling.

Likewise, Elizabeth and James celebrated with Michael about Elijah finishing his first essay. The young boy also struggles with writing, _severely_, and he has help in place at school. Which provides him the option of having someone scribe his words for him.

However, back in October, he wanted to write his essay all by himself… and he succeeded. He got an _78%_ on it, which is only because his teacher counted off for spelling and grammar mistakes.

Since "do not count off grammar/spelling/sentence formation" is part of his _504_ plan, Michael went in, with James as help because Sandra refused to acknowledge the fact that Elijah has trouble in school. The two men met with the Principal, Elijah's teacher, and… the Prentiss Family Lawyer.

James had been told of Michael's struggles with getting the school to cooperate, so the lawyer was there as help, because a _504_ is a document that schools and teachers are legally required to follow.

Needless to say, the teacher looked the essay over again, and raised the grade up to an _84%_. James and Elizabeth were as much a part of Elijah celebrating as Michael, and Eli's siblings.

"I know," Elizabeth agrees. "It seems like only yesterday James and I were sitting in that hospital bed holding Jake for the very first time."

Michael nods as he recounts, "I remember the doctor said _congratulations, it's boy!_ right as the clock ticked over to 12:00 a.m."

Hearing this, James, from across the room, asks, "Elijah was born at exactly midnight?" When Michael nods, he says, "Well, what are the chances! Jacob was born at 12:00 o'clock midnight, as well."

Jacob and Elijah are allowed to open a few of their presents before going to bed…

They get Legos, a remote control car, and Elijah gets a paint set because he loves to paint, but hates to draw/color, as it ties in with his troubles with writing.

Then, they are sent off to bed with one last _happy birthday!_ Everyone dwindles down after that, one-by-one the kids, and babies, are put to bed, and the grownups are situated in their own rooms.

Michael and the kids are going to spend the night here, obviously, while Sandy is at her mom's house. Hopefully, she won't be too "busy" to call and wish her child a _happy birthday_ tomorrow.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

**_*Later that morning – around 10:30 a.m.*_**

Michael awakens later on in the morning, and is horrified to find out that it is past 10 in the morning.

He jumps out of bed, hastily straightens the sheets and comforter, smooths down wrinkles in his pajamas, and then hurries to the bathroom to deal with his hair. Just because he slept in late — which is quite rude — does not mean he is going he is going downstairs _not_ looking put together.

Finally, about 10 minutes later, he is making his way downstairs.

The apology is on the tip of his tongue as he rounds the corner to the open space that is dining room/kitchen in the Prentiss Household.

Only, he does not get to say, _I am so sorry I slept late, and left you to deal with my eight kids, including my triplets, and along with _your_ seven kids_.

No, because when he rounds the corner?

He sees something _magical_.

Party decorations – a banner, a tablecloth, streamers, balloons…

All in his favorite colors and favorite themes.

The banner is homemade. It looks to have handprints from every child currently in the room, which is a whopping _28_ children, ranging from 23 years old, all the way down 3 months old. It reads _Happy Birthday, Michael!_

And presents are piled up on the table.

"W-What is all of this?" Michael asks, completely forgetting about how he left James, Elizabeth, and their parents to take care of nearly 2 dozen children under the age of 18.

Tristen is the one to explain first:

"Your birthday was in November, but you did not get to celebrate it…"

Then, Jacob chips in:

"Yeah, because you were being _such_ a good dad, and taking care of all your kids! Plus, you were spending time with us!"

Roslyn is next:

"You didn't even get a birthday cake, Daddy!"

And Caleb continues with:

"Yeah, Dad. It wasn't cool that we forgot your birthday, I'm sorry."

And finally, Elijah is concluding,

"Me and Jake talked it over. And we get presents all the time – birthdays and Christmas, and even Easter! But this year, _you_ only got one or two _happy birthday_'s, so we decided _you_ can take _our_ birthday, and use it as yours. So, instead of our presents, you get _your_ presents. And the cake is also for you. And today, we can do whatever _you_ want to do!"

His kids then all rush over, piping up with _happy birthday_'s and hugs, and questions about what he thinks about all of this, or what they are going to do today.

Michael hugs each and every one of them. He thanks them and he tells Elijah _and_ Jacob how _proud_ he is of them. Then, he goes to check on Jules, Luke, and Jenny.

"Hello, my Little Angels," He coos at each one of them. Jenny is currently being given her medicine by James's little brother, 12-year-old Jason.

"Happy Birthday, Mister Jareau," The young boy smiles cheekily as he knows Michael's birthday was back in November, It strikes the older of the two for a second. That smirk/smile reminds him so much of… _himself_. From photos of him playing pranks on his siblings, or just from smiling because he knew a secret they didn't.

Michael shakes his head slightly, clearing it.

"Thank you, Jase. And, please, call me Michael. None of that "mister" stuff. Knowing you are James's little _brother_ makes me feel old enough." He says it with a smile, and the grin on the boy's face only grows.

"Oh, but you _are_ old. What are you, like… _70_, now?"

Michael puts a hand over his heart in mock-offense.

"Okay, I see how it is. Just so you know, if you weren't holding my daughter right now, I would get you for that comment."

Right as he finishes, Jason gives a smirk.

"Daddy! Can you come here, please?"

Alden comes over, and the moment Jason knows Jenny is safe with him, he takes off through the kitchen, with Michael close behind.

They round the dining room table, weave through parents, siblings, and a grandmother in the kitchen, and turn the corner, going towards the back door. Jason stops just long enough to unlock and open the door, but then, he forgets one important little detail…

The storm door that, thankfully, has a screen, and is not glass, is still shut.

Jason barrels right through it.

It takes Michael just a split-second to realize what happened and then he is rushing over, quicker now, accessing the damage.

"Oh, Kid, I am so sorry. Are you all right? Come here…"

Jason stands with some help, and soon, they are surrounded by the other adults.

"Jason, I swear," Penelope begins.

"You and that door." Alden adds, "Sooner or later, Aunt Liz and Uncle James will learn to remove it to prevent this from happening again."

Once Michael has Jason up and back _inside_ the house, he looks to them with confusion.

Penelope notices, saying, "He somehow _always_ manages to do just that." She comes forward, looking him over. "Just some scraps here and there, you should be fine."

"I know, Mama," The tween answers, smirking at Michael. "It's all good, _Mister_ Jareau. Just some scraps that won't even require bandages."

Right as Michael goes to reply, a tiny voice is heard.

"Unless, of course, JT hears about it." Jason adds.

Right as he says this, a brown-eyed, curly dark-blonde little girl enters the room.

"Bubba J #6! Me comin', dohnna were-we!

Tiny little Jennifer — yes, there's more than 1 — comes running into the kitchen. She just turned 3 years old, on Christmas Day. She calls Jason "bubba J #6" because she has six older brothers, as well as six older sisters, and it is easier for the kids to say to keep up with the names, since all 15 Prentiss children's names start with a '_J_'.

"Bubba J #6! Awe yow otay?!"

Jason chuckles as she comes toddler-running over to him.

"Yeah, Baby Sissy J #7, I'm ok!" He picks her up.

"Bubba J #6, you gotsta haved miracle care!" She insists, and Michael gets the feeling that this is a normal occurrence around here. He smiles at that. The little girl is absolutely adorable, and he cannot wait until _his_ Jennifer is talking and running around like this.

James goes to get the First-Aid kit, and Jason lets Jennifer, whom they call "JT", do "miracle" care on him. She gives him band-aides, gaze patches, takes his temperature, and checks his heartbeat, before declaring him "good to go", and giving him a lollipop for "being a brave boy!"

* * *

**_*Later*_**

The rest of the day is amazing. Michael gets his favorite breakfast, and then they load up to go to Penelope and Alden's house, which has a home-theatre.

There, they watch Michael's favorite movie, then they all go out for lunch – at his favorite restaurant, even inviting his parents and siblings, which includes his baby brother, Jackson, his wife, Amber, and their own 5 children. Amber is even pregnant, due in September of this year.

"Hey, Big Brother!" Jackson calls out as they enter the restaurant. Amber is seated beside him, and around them are their kids – 6-year-old Madeline, 4-year-old twins, Eric and Mary, 2-year-old Aaron, who is turning 3 in just 1 week, and John, who is only 6 weeks old.

The pregnancy this time — the baby due in September — was not exactly planned, as John was born less than 2 months ago, but they will welcome him or her, anyway.

****Rated T for the implication of inappropriate touching****

The kids each go to their cousins. Roslyn slows down in the doorway as soon as she sees her uncle.

_God_, this was not what she was hoping was going to happen. She was hoping today would be a day _without_ her uncle. Because _without_ him means…

No "special time".

And _god_, how she _wants_ that to happen.

Her tummy feels icky, now. Her heart speeds up, her hands start to shake…

Maddie sees her. Roslyn stays close to Emilia, who is standing next to Elizabeth, who is pushing a custom-made stroller with Jennifer's carseat in it. Madeline gets up from the table and quietly makes her way over to her cousin.

Her _cousin_, who is the only one beside her sister, Mary, that understands _why_ they hate being around Jackson.

"Hi, Rosie," Maddie whispers, reaching out. Roslyn allows her to hold her hand. "Daddy says we have to be good girls, "or else", okay?"

Jesus _Christ_, this should not be happening.

Roslyn looks at her with such fear in her eyes that it nearly makes little 6-year-old Maddie cry right then and there. But, as Jackson has "taught" her, she knows better than to cry, even over a skinned knee, because it counts as "acting out" and will result in "special time" with their father, for Maddie and Mary, and her uncle, for Roslyn.

"Rosie! Mads!" Emilia calls out. "Come by sit me!"

Maddie suddenly lights up. Emilia is sitting with her mother — Elizabeth and James were introduced to them back in July — and is surrounded by Jennifer's carseat, and her cousins. The babies' seats are covered in blankets to make sure a minimum amount of germs get on them.

"Come on!" Emilia calls out again.

"Come on, Maddie!" Roslyn says, smiling and unexpectedly feeling _lighter_. "Let's sit by _Emmy_!"

The two first-graders, while holding hands, literally _skip_ over to the table. They sit the left of Emilia, she is at the end of the table, with Elizabeth on the side, and Jennifer's carseat sitting in a highchair beside them.

They try their hardest not to look at Jackson. Madeline knows he will not be happy about this.

Madeline, Roslyn, and Mary are _not_ allowed to sit _anywhere but_ next to him, because he uses their fear to make them obey _everything_, and when he thinks they are about to disobey, he will reach one of his hands out, lightly _patting_ their legs, just a _little too close_ to, well…

I am sure you can guess it.

****Ends here****

Once the whole group, which easily is 50+ people, finishes eating, there is a surprise.

A group of waitresses, waiters, and even the owner of the restaurant start a line, cheering and singing _Happy Birthday_. Though, this time, they sing it quieter than usual, and tell Michael what is about to happen, because Caleb, Emilia, and the babies, plus several other kids are sensitive to loud, sudden noises.

They sing _Happy Birthday_, and bring out a sundae with a candle.

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!" – "Happy Birthday, Bubba!" – "Happy Birthday, Uncle Michael!" is shouted from all the kids, including his younger siblings, and Michael blows out the candle on what is, easily, the best late-birthday celebration ever.

* * *

**_1 week later – Monday, January 8th, 1979  
_**

* * *

**_*Prentiss's Residence*_**

Today is 1 week into the New Year. 7 whole days into 1979.

7 days of a brand new year for Jennifer, Lucas, and Juliet.

Today is also Aaron Jareau's third birthday. He is Jackson and Amber's second oldest son.

Michael has just arrived back at James's and Elizabeth's from his brother's house. He and the kids had stopped by to give a _happy birthday_.

Michael is upset that he was unable to get his nephew any gifts, but he just cannot afford it right now, not when he is still paying off the hospital bills, and also being solely responsible for the Electricity, Water, and Cable bills, _and_ buying groceries every week, _and_ paying for gas, _and_ the miscellaneous items each week.

The worst part is, Michael cannot even give the kids their allowances or weekly money for their chores, because he literally does not _have any_ left over after deducting the money for everything else.

In fact, the trouble is so severe that Michael spends nearly every second of his free time (and not-so-free time) arguing with the Insurance Company and everyone else about the damned bills.

So, they did not even have money to buy their cousin something for his birthday.

But they did stop by. And they did wish him a _happy birthday_. And then, they left.

Jackson was not happy about it. Michael knows that he and Amber are well-off. They _both_ have jobs, and they have plenty of money to be able to eat out at least twice a week, and they never have to choose the _needed_ items for groceries — like food, toilet paper, and vitamins — over just _junk_ – like candy, a new movie, etc.

They do not have to do that like Michael does – like he is _forced to do_ because Sandy lost her job last year, and currently spends her days mooching off her friends, or the relatives that feel sorry for her.

This is the way Michael is living at the moment — the way he is having to raise his family — and it hurts, really, that his little brother does not understand.

But, as James and Liz, _and_ their parents, have told him – there will always be that one relative that just does not…

Get it.

Now, the plan today was: the kids go to school. They come home, do their homework and chores, then they would get a ride to Jackson and Amber's house for the birthday party. Michael would usually let them walk, but, since what happened in July of 1977, they are no longer allowed to walk alone.

However, Roslyn had begged to stay home, or at least, to go to James and Liz's house. Michael did not have the energy to argue with her. Besides, he knows that Caleb and Gabriel would not have wanted to go. Gabe is teased for not speaking well, like Roslyn and the others, and for not being to do certain things.

Caleb would have been uncomfortable because of the lights, sounds, smells, which would have been too overwhelming for him. It would have caused a _sensory overload_, and Michael was not comfortable leaving him there because he knows his brother just does not understand Caleb the way he does.

Their little sister, Martha, did and still does, have _sensory overloads_ of her own. Sometimes the sights, smells, sounds, etc. get too overwhelming for her brain to process it all, and it sends her entire nervous system into overdrive.

Jackson was the kind of big brother who would tease her over this. Poking her, picking her up, blowing into her ear, playing music right next to her ear, shining a flashlight into her eyes, etc. He would get into trouble, of course, but no matter how many times he was told, Karen and Kenneth just could not get him to _stop it_.

Anyway, at the end of the day, Michael is more comfortable knowing the kids are welcome, at ease, and having fun at James's and Liz's house, than _not_ having fun at their aunt and uncle's house. He knows it sounds… _wrong_… but it is the truth. He helps him to relax and focus a little more at work.

**_:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/:/_**

His boss, a wonderful man, is still allowing Michael to come to the Hospital and take care of only the _absolutely_ necessary patients.

So, he gets off at about 4:30. He has time to help with homework, cook dinner, spend some time with the kids, etc. before it is time for their baths and time to go to bed. It is better this way — he wants to be around as much as possible — and thankfully, his boss, Arnold Thompson, understands things perfectly.

Arnie has six kids of his own, though only two still live at home. He is the sole source of income in his home, as well, because his wife, Evelyn, is now wheelchair- bound, due to a car accident three years ago.

So now, on Monday, Michael brings the kids to James and Liz's house. As they enter, Roslyn and Gabriel run off to find Maya and Kai, while Caleb and Elijah are helping Michael carry in the Triplets.

Emilia comes to greet him right away, and he smiles tiredly at her.

"Hello, 'Millie. Did you have a good day of schooling?"

Another new thing happening is…

"C'était fantastique ! J'étais à Londres aujourd'hui, et c'était tellement amusant!" _It was fantastic! I got to go to London today!_

Elizabeth, James, and Emilia are teaching Michael different languages so he can speak to Emilia in the language she is most comfortable with. She can understand English, so Michael is still able to speak it, but also, he is able to understand Emilia in languages _she_ is most comfortable speaking.

Which is why he is surprised by what she says.

"You went to London, as in, London England?"

Emilia nods excitedly as they enter the kitchen, and Michael sets Jennifer's carseat on the counter.

"Yep! On est partis hier soir et on y est super, super tôt. Puis nous sommes allés explorer, et nous avons mangé le déjeuner, et appris beaucoup de choses, et puis nous sommes revenus dans notre avion, et nous sommes rentrés à la maison!" _Yep! We left last night and got there super, super early. Then we went exploring, and we ate lunch, and learned about lots of stuff, and then we got back on our plane, and came home!_

Michael looks to Elizabeth, who is currently cooking up some dinner, which he and the kids will join for.

Liz chuckles at the bewilderment look on his face.

"We have a Private Jet," She explains. "It takes about 8 hours to get to London from the airport in Philly."

"Wow, that's… Wow."

He knew Liz is an Ambassador and as such, she and her husband are well-off. But he did not even think to at least wonder if they had luxuries that many people do not, like a Private Family Jet, for instance.

"We have learned from the past," Liz starts, as she comes over to the table, where they can see Emilia is now on the couch, and being helped to hold Jennifer by her grandfather, Alden. "That it is best not to tell people about such things."

She sighs here, remembering the reasons _why_ she and James came to that decision.

"In the past, we have allowed the kids to tell their friends about out Jet. We allowed them to… well, talk about the vacations we have taken, how we flew out to see family across the country for the weekend, and so on. Until… it became something that was detrimental to our children's wellbeing. Now, this may sound a bit overboard, but… It's not."

She pauses for the oven timer beeping. Getting some hot rolls out and placing them to cool, she pours some iced tea for both herself and Michael. Then, she sits back at the table, explaining of her earlier statement.

"You see, when the kids would tell their friends about our fancy Private Jet, those friends would want to come along on a trip or two. And at first, James and I were completely all right with that. Along as these kids were nice, well-behaved children, and we knew they would not cause trouble, and their parents did not mind."

"However…"

And here is the moment Michael _understands_.

"After several times of this happening, it seemed like their friends were, well… It seemed as if they were _only_ interested in our children because our family had money, had luxuries they did not have, could fly wherever, whenever. At some point, it came to be that we were _always_ bringing "a friend or two" along for the ride."

"We no longer had family time at the beach for the weekend because we were always bringing along another child. The kids were being stressed because, often on these trips, there would be moments where they disappear to their bedrooms for the afternoon. Or when we allowed them to go swimming alone, and so on."

"However, once they started telling their friends, and we began bringing said friends with us, they did not get this alone time. They were always attending to their friends, entertaining them, being with 24/7. It became… very unnecessarily stressful because Tristan, Jacob, and Emilia were not able to have that calming, relaxed time to themselves."

"Our family trips were no longer a luxury to them. They… They no longer wanted to accompany us to different places, if it meant having to bring a friend."

Michael listens with great interest, as Elizabeth retells the stories that she and James have discussed many times over the years.

"I am so sorry," He sighs out. "That sounds… Well, it sounds horrible, to be honest. I can see how the fun would be sucked out of those trips. I love my friends to death, but every now and then, even I would need to have some alone time, to relax and destress, and just have time to myself. I am sorry that you, James, and your children were treated so poorly."

Liz nods in agreement, but she also explains how she and James were not 100% innocent in these situation,

"At this point, James and I realized we had not been the best parents. We realized we were partly to blame for this, for continuing to allow these other children to come along, even as we saw what it was doing to our own

"When we moved the last time, to Spain, we sat the older kids down, and we explained that they should limit how much they were informing the other kids of, regarding all that we are able to do. We told them to not brag about our trips so much, to limit how much was told. If they wanted to tell them, fine, but they needed to also specify that we would not be allowing anyone to come with us. Now, with them being 10, eight and six, we also reiterated this with their parents, and that seemed to do the trick."

"I'm glad," Michael comments. "I hope they are able to, once again, enjoy these trips, and are able to be kids, have fun, and relax."

Elizabeth smiles at this as she nods, vaguely wondering what said kids are up to, because the house if awfully quiet right now.

Before she goes to figure that out, though, there is one last thing she needs to discuss with Michael.

"Thank you. And they are. The kids absolutely love being able to go the beach, and spend all day in sun, sand, and water, without have guests to tend to. James and I want them to enjoy it for as long as possible, before they begin entering high school, and do not have time for it each weekend anymore."

She takes a deep breath here, saying, "There is, however, something I want to discuss with you, about the kids and… well… our trips."

"Oh, Liz, no. I understand if you would not like us to accompany you. It is perfectly ok."

Well, at least, that is what he _thinks_ she is going to say.

But oh, how wrong he is.

Elizabeth smiles gently, shaking her head.

"Actually, Michael, it is the opposite. You see, well,–… I know that this goes against everything I just explained to you, however, I am going to say it, anyway. You see, I would like to invite you, and your children, — and maybe, in the future, your wife, — with us, on our trips. To the beach, to see any family, if you would like–"

She has to rush through her sentences here, to talk over Michael, who is trying to reassure her that she should not feel obligated to make this offer.

"Michael, please. If you genuinely do not want to accept the offer, that is fine. However, I am making this offer because I have seen how close our children have become, and I feel, with that friendship, that they would still be able to "relax" as well as having fun with each other. This is not something you have to accept or decline right now, ok? But please, do think about it. I am sure Emilia would love to grow up with your daughter, Jennifer, going on these trips."

She stifles her laughter as Michael glares because he just _knows_ she used Emilia as pawn in this offer.

"You did that on purpose." He accuses, and she just laughs out a _I did not!_ And he sighs, really thinking about it. "It is a very nice offer, and I think I will take the time to think it over, and maybe discuss with the children."

"And that is all I ask you do."

And just as they are closing out this conversation, Maya and Gabriel run into to tell them _we're hungry, can we go to McDonald's?_

Elizabeth informs them that, actually, they are going to be eating spaghetti, garlic bread, and iced tea, to which they cheer, and then obediently run off to tell the kids it is time to wash up.

Michael, along with James, help set the table. They put out the glasses, placemats, serving silverware, etc. Food is served, the kids talk about their day, Emilia tells them about London, and overall, the movie and sleepover that happens later is the perfect end to this day.

* * *

**It is finally January, the Triplets' first new year!**

**At the beginning, I was trying to show that Emma has difficulty with _receptive_ and _expressive_ _language_. Basically, she has trouble reading social cues _(receptive_), and has trouble starting a conversation with friends, and keeping it going _(expressive)._**

**Hopefully, as time goes on, that will get better to portray. ****Also! That offer Elizabeth made is going to be used frequently. Lots of vacations and trips with our girls. ;)**

**Anyway, the next chapter will be a two-part doctor's visit chapter. Some things are revealed in both. Updates will start to be more regular as I now have some things figured out, and more chapters prewritten. So, please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	25. The Journal Entry – January 10th, 1979

**Disclaimers: I do not own CM or its characters. I do own all OCs.  
Spoilers: None  
Rating: T**

**Notes: This is just something that popped into my head. I outlined and am starting with this journal entry that Michael did. This is a leadup to something that will happen in a few chapters in _Chronicles_. This also takes place two days after the last chapter.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**2 days later ****– **__**January 10th, 1979**_

* * *

**_Journal Entry, #2: January 10th, 1979_**

**_Today has been a horrible day. Day after day after day, it is the same thing._**

**_Today is a terrible day for a different reason. Caleb is GONE._**

**_I can't believe it happened again._**

**_This is my fault. I should have protected him. I should have done more. I should have made sure he was not alone._**

**_If something happens to him she will regret it._**

**_UPDATE:_**

**_It has been 12 hours. Caleb is still nowhere to be found._**

**_What am I going to do? Where could he have gone? We have looked everywhere. __No one knows anything. We have to give the Search Dogs his scent._**

**_It is too cold for him to be out. __ It is going to get down in single-digit temperatures tonight. I just pray he is not outside, in this weather, all alone. Please, God, keep my little boy safe._**

**_UPDATE 2:_**

**_1 whole day. 24 hours that seems like 24 years. We have talked to friends, family, strangers…_**

**_The kids are all upset. The babies are inconsolable. I can't eat or sleep. I have trouble keeping up with the housework and taking care of the babies and putting out fliers and posters with Caleb's picture._**

**_There is a scheduled Media appearance today. I never thought I would have to plead for the return of a second child. I barely survived losing Lexie. I cannot bare it happening again. Please, God, don't do this to me again._**

* * *

**So… how many of you hate me right now? More to come on this later. I will have some _Snapshots_ chapters for this explaining in detail.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


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